A Day in the Life of an Intern

Among the two companies I'm currently interning for, one is run by a hermit who scurries between the elevator and his office, and considers looking at me akin to staring into the eyes of Medusa. The other is headed by Dana Brunetti. You might not know who he is. Well, fuck you then. He made The Social Network. Ever heard of it? Anyways, I've been there for about a month. Let me run through a typical day. Let's say yesterday:

6:45 AM - Drag my ass out of bed. Normally this would be a PITA, but my girlfriend forgot to brush her teeth last night, so when she opens up to gripe about the alarm, it's like Biz Markie just crawled into out bed.

7 AM - Personal meditation time on the couch. Best two minutes and thirty seconds of the day.

7:10 - 9:15 AM - Work on the future doorstop I've been penning for three weeks.

9:20-10:30 AM - Tame the traffic on the 101 (Hollywood Freeway, a.k.a. Satan's lower intestine) by focusing on my next moves in the six different games of Words With Friends I've got going.

10:35 AM - 30 Minutes late. No one cares. The assistants nod. The dog humps my leg. Kevin Spacey seems to leer at me from a every poster on the wall. The VP is reading a comic book.

10:45 AM - 1:00 PM - Line edit borderline illiterate text from the company's affiliated podcasts, while simultaneously layering the text with subliminal messages for Dana to hire me full time as a story consultant, much as I've done with this past sentence to convince you to do something awful to someone in the next twenty four hours.

1:00 - 2:00 PM - Get lunches. If I screw up, I will be hung from the ceiling, de-pantsed, and eviscerated by the maid's vacuum.

1:54 PM - Dana nods in my direction. Holy TFS!!!! He looked at me. The creator of The Social Network, okay, technically the producer of the movie about it, okay the guy who found the project and brought everyone together and then stepped aside, looked at me!!

1:55 - 2:03 PM - Floating through Elysium on a cloud made of rainbows and titties.

2:04 - 4:00 PM - Researching Dana's accomplishments in life for his Wikipedia page update. In the process I discover that the man, the myth, the producer got his break at the ripe old age of 24, while working for an upstart cell phone company. He tried to cell (sorry, pun) a phone to Kevin Spacey, whom he'd never heard of at the time. Yeah, right. Since, as everyone knows creeps love telemarketers, Kevin quickly scooped Dana as his assistant. Six years later, he made him the president of the company.

4:00 - 5:30 PM- Deflated enough to actually consider sticking my head into the toilet and using the bidet to wash away my tears of disillusionment.

5:45 - Hope. I spy the other intern, Ted, on Craigslist. He's perusing the Casual Encounters section and sending vicious hate mail to each of the posters. This can't be real life. He has the exact same voice as Buffalo Bill too. I think I'm on to something. Working at an office run by the seven deadly sins killer, with copycat right under my nose. Who said anything about tears?

6:00 - 7:00 PM - Work tails off as I observe Buffalo Ted. It doesn't matter. Even if I don't catch this would-be killer, I've done such a good job on these podcast descriptions that they will have to pay me six figures as an in-house writer; they'll just have to. The assistant, who looks like he graduated from college in 2015, even tells me that if I put in my time, and pay my dues, after six months they might let me work on some of my writing here, and he'll give me feedback. Subtle fist pump.

7:00 - 8:00 PM - Driving home. 5 freeway this time. Traffic again averted because I'm following Buffalo Ted. He gets off at the LA Zoo exit.

8:00 - 8:15 PM - Buffalo Ted weaves his way up into Eagle Rock. Does he know I'm onto him? That wasn't the right exit. He stops at Señor Fish. I can't tell exactly what he's getting, but I'd guess it's fish tacos. Everything else there sucks.

8:20 PM - Buffalo Ted comes out eating a chimichanga. Dastardly! He takes three bites and heads toward his trunk. He checks to make sure no one is looking and pops it open. A muffled noise. A scream? He puts something inside. A moment later the chimichanga flies back into his face. Salsa drips off his chin like blood. A definite squeal follows. Buffalo unleashes a couple heavy rights into the dark space. The squealing ceases.

8:21 PM - Buffalo peels out. I pull my car over to the place where he'd been parked. There are drops of blood on the ground. Mother of God. What a good screenplay idea.

8:30 - 12:00 PM - Working on my new screenplay. It's amazing. It's incredible. Thank you Buffalo Ted.

12:00 AM - Girlfriend gets home from work and forces me to eat. I force her to have sex with me.

It's Not Your Fault: An Open Letter to Arlen Specter

Dear Senator Specter,

It must be hard to be a sports fan in the city that booed Santa Claus. Trust me, I understand your pain. Boston may not be a loser city anymore, but up until 2001 the only playoff taste I'd ever known was the Yankees' backside. My Celtics were the joke of the NBA. My Patriots were "the Patsies." My Red Sox were mired in an eighty-some-odd year World Series drought that I'm sure you've heard too much about already. Even my high school teams were terrible. So trust me, I know your pain. And trust me when I say this, it will get better. You might feel like all hope is lost, and you might feel bitter enough to lead a witch hunt against the Patriots and neglect all your political duties in the process, but like Mick Jagger said, "You can't always get what you want." The only thing you can do is accept your teams' failures and move on. Try to stay optimistic. It's the only way. Say it with me now. "It's not my fault."

Feels better doesn't it? "It's not my fault." I don't know where I first heard that phrase, but it has helped me get through the three biggest disappointments of my life.

The first time had nothing to do with sports. It was Christmas of 1996. I was ten. Vacation had started too late that year, with school going right up to December twenty-third. I woke up Christmas morning, greeted by the webbed frost hanging in the corners of my windows, the whistling, high-pitched whine from the radiator, and the last red link from my construction paper Christmas countdown chain. Finally, I'm getting a Nintendo 64, I thought, eagerly, about the video game console that I'd pined over during the many, many sleepless nights since Halloween.

Then I got some shirts, some baseball cards, some candy, and a book of scratch tickets. Thanks, but no Nintendo 64. I wanted (key word: wanted) to cry until my tears filled my bedroom and drowned me in my misery. Life just wasn't worth living without a Nintendo 64.

Now I know that the memory of Donovan McNabb doubled over in the huddle, exhausted, and trying to hold back the nervous regurgitate as he prepares to mount a game winning drive must make you sick to your stomach, but, "Take a tip from me..." as Brad Nowell says, "it all comes back to you, you bound to get what you deserve." Karma is a funny thing. That Christmas day when I didn't get what I wanted, did I complain to my parents and act ungrateful for everything else they got me? Of course not. If I had done that, I never would've gotten what I wanted. Besides, I knew they tried. It just wasn't in the cards for me to get a Nintendo 64 that day. And you know what? None of my friends got one either. There was nothing any of us could do. I said it then. "It's not my fault," and in doing so I embraced that truth, realizing that I wasn't alone in my misery. By the time spring came around, the rush on Nintendo 64s ended, and I finally got one.

The second great letdown was game 7 of the 2003 ALCS. As you may recall, the Red Sox led heading into the eighth inning, with the greatest pitcher of his generation going on the mound. This was it. We were going to win the World Series. It all seemed inevitable. I was watching it with my family. My 80 year-old grandmother beamed, grinning from ear to ear like she might actually live to see them win one. My father and his uncles gripped the necks of their beers so tightly that the glass should have shattered into their palms. My mother paced in the dining room, itching to watch the game but we wouldn't let her because the powers that be had determined she was bad luck whenever she entered the room.

Then Grady Little decided to leave his balls in the dugout. Three innings and a walk off Aaron #*%$ Boone home run later later, I was on the floor of my room, elbows hooked around my knees, telling myself, "It's not my fault."

I felt cheated. I wanted to strangle Grady Little, and then call the league and ask them to replay the game, this time without hayseed around to allow Pedro Martinez to finish the inning. The Yankees weren't supposed to win. 2003 was supposed to be the year that Nomar, Pedro and Manny ended the drought. Still I knew there was nothing I could do. The game was over. We lost. Just like the Eagles lost in 2003. There's no way you can change that. Sure, you can neglect your duty to the people of Pennsylvania and to the US senate, and pursue a witch hunt against the Patriots. What's the best case scenario you can hope for? Perhaps Roger Goodell sides with you, and takes away the Patriots' Super Bowl XXXIX Lombardi trophy in a noon press conference. He's still not going to give it to the Eagles. The game would simply be null and void, and the only thing you would have accomplished is making all of New England just as bitter as Philadelphia. Either way the Eagles don't win. The only thing you can do is let it go. That's what we all did here in 2003. The Red Sox fired Grady Little, and we let it go. Because it wasn't our fault. The next year is history.

The third great disappointment was a mere month ago. Call it karma for spygate (by the way, the link included is absolutely hilarious in its ridiculousness), or for running up the score if you will. Or call it a choke. The Patriots missed out on the chance to be called the one of the greatest teams in the history of sports. And while it's still too soon for me to reminisce without spite, I can tell you that the result of the game wasn't pretty. There I was slouched on the chaise nursing a bottle of Jim Beam, holding a joint in my other hand all the while trying to convince myself and my buddy Matt that it wasn't our fault, as he lay curled on the couch, whimpering both over the loss of perfection and the subsequent 2000 dollars worth of damage we caused to his apartment complex following the game.

It's obviously too soon for me to tell how this one will work out. All I can say is that at least it was a good ride while it lasted. I really don't have any parallels here for your situation. Instead, in this final part of the letter, I'd just like thank you for distracting the Patriots the day before the Super Bowl. You really didn't have to do that. You could easily have waited. What you did went above and beyond the senatorial call of duty. I commend you. Never again will we as sports fans ever have to worry about our teams losing games. Anytime our team is cheated, we know we can go to our sports senator and he will make it all better. Whether it's Roger Clemens' steroid use before the 2003 ALCS, or the Eagles illegally discussing a contract with Asante Samuel before the NFL free agency began, we can write to our sports senator and he will drop whatever he's doing, whether it has to do with the men and women dying in Iraq, the American housing crisis, or the stumbling US economy, and he will fight for us.

Oh yeah, and I can't forget to thank you Senator Specter, for giving me someone to blame for the Patriots' loss. I can finally say it now. "It's not my fault."

Yours truly,
Tom

Chicks Dig the Long Book: Another Canseco Memoir Hits the Shelves

This past February marked the three-year anniversary of the release of Juiced: Wild Times, Rampant 'Roids, Smash Hits, and How Baseball Got Big, the seminal memoir of former MLB player turned author, José Canseco. For the cave dwellers out there who aren't familiar, in Juiced Canseco proclaims himself the "Godfather of Steroids" and discusses how, during a career that spanned three decades, he introduced some of Major League Baseball's biggest stars to steroids. From his old Oakland bash brother, former home run champ Mark McGwire, to everyone's favorite member of the lovable losers, Sammy Sosa, to the greatest pitcher of his generation, Roger Clemens, no name proves too sacred for mention in Canseco's tell all memoir.

Juiced became a New York Times bestseller, simultaneously rescuing Canseco from bankruptcy and hurling him into the national spotlight. At first the media discredited him. The U.S.S. Mariner, for example, called him out as an exaggerating opportunist, who had recently been so broke that he sold his Rookie of the Year trophy and World Series ring for quick cash. It wasn't until one of the key players he named, Rafael Palmeiro, failed a drug test in August 2005 that people finally started to believe Canseco. They figured if he was right about Palmeiro, then maybe he was right about the others too. From that point on Major League Baseball focused all of its energy on the still ongoing purge of steroids from the sport. The investigation culminated this past December with the release of the now infamous Mitchell Report, a convoluted, 310 page, he said, she said account of steroid use in baseball.

Now Canseco is peddling a new book called Vindicated: Big Names, Big Liars, and the Battle to Save Baseball. A continuation of Juiced, Vindicated is Canseco's attempt to clarify the names left out of the Mitchell Report, among them two more of America's favorite players, Ken Griffey Jr. and Álex Rodriguez. Neither of these players has ever been linked to steroids before, which makes one ponder the real motive behind Canseco's new publication. Does he genuinely want to clean up the sport? Or is it all about keeping his name in the headlines and making more money? While some signs may point to the latter, given how after Juiced Canseco's publisher told him he didn't have enough facts left for another book, we must to keep in mind that this is the same Canseco who once hit forty homers and stole forty bases in a single season. Any guy who sets a record like that, must truly care about his sport, right? Therefore, perhaps the title says it all for the book. Vindicated is more than another unapologetic memoir from José Canseco. It is his heartfelt attempt to use his newfound credibility to further aid in the cleansing, and thereby bettering of Major League Baseball. Or so he claims.

The fact is, for me at least, that I wonder if all this is really in the interest of bettering professional baseball. For starters, let me just say outright that I really don't care if the players took steroids. Yeah, they cheated. Yeah, it probably taints some of the records that were set. And yeah, it also made baseball pretty darn exciting in the process. Think about it. Where would Major League Baseball be today if it weren't for McGwire and Sosa's epic 1998 home run chase? I, for one, don't think I could stand to hear another story about 61 in '61. The chase revived the sport in the minds of the American public, and captured the hearts of a whole new generation of fans. I know. I was one of them. We loved Slammin' Sammy and Big Mac. We wanted to be just like them. To be big, strong, baseball mashing, Brobdingnagian ballplayers. Steroids might be illegal, but come on, even a certain California governor endorses their use under the right circumstances.

So they took steroids. So what? I'll remember watching that low line drive sail over the green left field wall in Busch stadium for the rest of my life. That's all that really matters, isn't it? Who cares if kids follow their example, and damage their health, ruin their futures, and further corrupt the integrity of sport? That's why we watch sports, for the chance to see something happen that we'll always remember. I may have missed out on the aforementioned 61 in '61, Hank Aaron's 755th, the 1978 pennant, and Charlie Hustle's 4,192nd base hit, but I'll always have the history I witnessed in 1998. No drug allegations (or admissions) should have the right to take that away.

The only thing that the steroid investigation has done for me is taint the future. In the years since they first came to light, I've been forced to doubt every major baseball accomplishment I've seen. Since 2001, Barry Bonds has bested some of the most hallowed records in baseball, and I'll be damned if half of America couldn't have been more ambivalent. No one cares anymore. Sure, baseball is doing the right thing in trying to cleanse itself now, but that doesn't mean it should ever have reached this point. A player as great as Barry Bonds doesn't deserve this kind of treatment. He should be loathed for his notoriously surly demeanor, not his questionable workout regimen, right?

What Major League Baseball should have done is taken a cue from the NFL, or for that matter itself, and brushed the whole issue under the rug from the start. Believe me, I wouldn't have been very hurt. Sure, there would have still been guys like José Canseco, who knew they could make a buck by spilling their guts in tell all memoirs. As long as the league continued calling him a liar and avoided putting its foot in its mouth, no one would have cared, right?

Just look at the players in the NFL. A blind monkey could safely assume, based on their body types that more than a few of them are on steroids. Or look at the athletes from the 1980s. Everyone knows that half the players tried blow at least once (and you're kidding yourself if you don't believe that). Neither of those things is some big mystery. The American public, in general, has at least a vague idea of what was going on. But as long as the leagues keep as much of their business "in house" as possible, no one cares. José Canseco had absolutely zero credibility until the league stepped in and started suspending players left and right. Bud Selig should have stuck to his guns, and dealt with it behind closed doors the way his predecessor, Peter Ueberroth dealt with 1980s cocaine abuse in the league. As long as he kept witch hunters happy by suspending a few major users each season, everyone else was able to go about their business (as long as no one found out), personal health, legacy, and the example they set be damned.

It truly is a sad day when I find myself equally expecting to see my favorite ballplayer on the dugout bench, or in front of a judge's bench (see Mark McGwire getting sworn in on the left). Yet, that seems to be the way things are going to be for the foreseeable future.

I know I can't wholly blame Major League Baseball, or José Canseco for my cynicism. Someday soon, the people who are really responsible for the current state of the sport must be held accountable. And with the release of Vindicated, that day moves closer. José Canseco is fighting for the integrity of the league. I just hope that all those long ball loving chicks are ready to bear the immense burden of blame that's coming to them.

Rocket Fuel: Embracing the Untarnished Part of Roger's Legacy

My first baseball glove was a Roger Clemens edition Rawlings. It was a hand-me-down from my cousin Will, and by the time I first felt its floppy rawhide over my sweaty palm, Roger was only a few years away from eating his way out of Boston. But I didn't care. He was The Rocket. And every time he took the mound, my heart hung on each strike, waiting and hoping to see the next "K," the next small proof of his greatness I was witnessing.

When Dan Duquette let Roger leave for the Toronto Blue Jays after the 1996 season, the Boston public was torn. Half angrily hung onto nostalgia, and cited the second to last game he pitched for Boston, when he struck out 20 batters for the second time in his career, as cause to believe he would have turned it around. The other half was content to see him leave, choosing to believe Duquette, who notoriously suggested Clemens was entering the twilight of his career.

I was devastated. As soon as I read the headline in The Boston Globe that Roger had signed with the Blue Jays, I threw my glove into the deepest recesses of the garage. Roger had been a Red Sox since the day I was born. And now he was a Blue Jay? It didn't seem possible. See, in Boston the Red Sox aren't just a team, they are an integral part of life. The fans live and die with them. When they won the World Series in 2004, countless people in Massachusetts simultaneously proclaimed, "Now I Can Die In Peace!" and truly meant it.

The loyalty of the fan base is both a blessing and a bane for the athletes who play there. When they succeed, they are worshiped (see Tom Brady). And when they leave or fail, there is a deep hurt and an eternal, bitter feeling of scorn and resentment toward them. Just ask Johnny Damon about it. Until 2005, he was one of the most beloved players in Red Sox history. Then he left under similar circumstances to Roger, and now he'd be lucky to find a pub in Boston willing to serve him a beer.

As fans, we are spiteful because when we put our heart and soul into these men on this field, we expect them to do the same for us. The late Will McDonough of the Boston Globe may have summed up the animosity toward Roger best, when he famously called him "The Texas Con Man." Clemens had earned the love of the Boston fans. All he had to do was stay, and he never would have lost it.

Watching Roger after he left was painful. He was like the ex-girlfriend who lost twenty-five pounds and found a new, better looking, richer beau. Every chance he got to make Boston regret dumping him, he took full advantage.

Roger focused all of his anger on rebuilding his career. He adopted the intense workout regimen he's since become famous for, developed a split-fingered fastball to counter the loss in his velocity, and went on to win four more Cy Youngs and two World Series rings. Worse yet, he won both rings and one of the Cy Youngs as a member of the Red Sox' arch rival, the New York Yankees.

The pain was eased in 1997 when Pedro Martinez arrived in Boston, bringing with him a dazzling changeup, blazing fastball, and the kind of media friendly persona so rarely seen in Boston. And the pain was further eased in 2004 and 2007 when the Red Sox won the World Series. But no matter what happens, one needs only to realize that no player has worn number 21 since Clemens left to see that Boston could never truly move on from Roger. Even as he piled up record after record, and Cy Young after Cy Young for other teams, each accolade was only a reminder of what could have been.

Until now.

The recent steroid allegations cast a new light on Roger, one that potentially burns a scarlet asterisk next to each of his accomplishments since he left. Could he be a cheater? If so, then all of the guilt and regret we felt as we watched him become the greatest right handed pitcher of the modern era while wearing a non Red Sox uniform, gets washed away.

His former trainer, Brian McNamee (with Clemens in photo) says that he cheated. And it's really so good to hear that. Even if it turns out to be false in the end (which seems not to be the case at this point), it feels so good, like finding out that the ex-girlfriend who seemed so much better off, actually lost the weight through liposuction and a tummy tuck paid for by the new boyfriend. You hope they have a great life together and everything, but no matter what happens, now you take comfort in the knowledge that you had her first.

The same goes with Clemens. Boston had him first. He won three clean and unquestioned Cy Youngs and an MVP there. The steroid allegations, for what they're worth, simply wipe out everything he has done since.

No Balance of Power in the NBA: Trend or Problem?

The Golden State Warriors' record this season is 48-33. The Atlanta Hawks record is 37-43. If I were to ask which team is going to the playoffs, and which team will be waiting on ping-pong balls in the June draft lottery, the answer seems obvious enough. The Warriors won more games and must therefore be the better team, and the playoff team.

Ah, but let's not get ahead of ourselves. While the Warriors have had the misfortune to compile their better record against vastly superior competition in the Western Conference, the Hawks have stumbled to what, in most years would be a disappointing record, in the far less challenging Eastern Conference. And yet, even with a sub .500 record, the east is so terrible that the Hawks are the team destined for the playoffs. The Warriors, on the other hand, are already home for the summer.

This situation has sportswriters and fans across the country crying out for a change. How, they wonder, can an inferior team like the Hawks be allowed to play in the playoffs, and therefore accumulate many millions more in revenue, while a much more worthy team is left without an opponent? Worse yet, because the Hawks are in the playoffs, they will have a lower draft pick. NBA talent is typically marginal after the lottery, and given the Hawks' weak drafting history, there seems to be little hope for them to ever improve. Meanwhile, the Warriors will likely pluck one of the blue chip prospects out of the draft, improve their team, and add to the sustained dominance of the Western Conference. Surely, the NBA should restructure its playoff format to accommodate the Warriors. As a matter of fact, the Portland Trail Blazers also have a better record than Atlanta, so let's put them in the playoffs too, and we could drop Philadelphia, who at 40-41 are slightly inferior to the Blazers.

I completely understand that sometimes there is a need for change in a sport. The NFL is far better off now that the divisions have been realigned more logically (how New Orleans was ever put in a West Coast division is beyond me). And Major League Baseball has also benefited from both realignment, which allows the immensely popular Yankees-Red Sox rivalry to play out twenty times a year, and from changing the playoff format to allow four teams from each league to participate instead of simply playing a World Series between the Pennant winners from each league.

But, to change the longstanding infrastructure of a league simply because one decade has been marked by a league of parity is a little drastic. Every professional sports league goes through periods of unbalance. Major League Baseball was dominated by the National League in the 1970s and then the American League this past decade. The NFL was dominated by the NFC in the 1990s and now the AFC this decade. That's what makes sports special. Teams have the opportunity, under strong leadership and with a little luck, to build dynasties. Of course no one wants to see a 48 win team get left of out the playoffs in favor of a 37 win team, but that is part of the unpredictable nature of the sport. The fans in Atlanta haven't seen their team in the playoffs in 8 years. They must deserve it just as much as the fans of the Warriors.

For the remainder of the post, I will include two responses I've written to articles on this subject. The first comment is regarding an article entitled, "In the Playoffs, May Only the Best Teams Play," by Frank Deford on NPR. Frank discusses an alternative to the current playoff system in which the NBA adopts something more like March Madness. My second comment is a response to Chris Clarke's article, "East and West Work Fine, Thanks." Chris makes some very good points about the need for the NBA to stay the current course. You can find my response to Chris's article after my comment on Frank Deford's.

"In the Playoffs, May Only the Best Teams Play"

Frank, thanks you for your insight. Nearly everything you point out in your article rings true on so many levels. The current lopsided state of the NBA (as well as the NFL and MLB) is ridiculous. I've been waiting my whole life to see the Celtics in the playoffs, with an actual chance to win the Championship. But, now because of a terrible Eastern Conference I'm supposed to watch them open against the Hawks. PUH-lease. Give me ESPN Gamecast and I'll turn the game on if it gets close.

Something does need to be done. What? I can't say for certain. I definitely like the idea of a Round Robin playoff system, as you propose, however, as is the case with most other options, it all comes down to bringing in money. A round robin playoff system, would be great for the fans, but we have to remember that this league ultimately revolves around making money. And all the people in the world watching an exciting playoff series won't make up for the money from ticket sales and television that would have been made in those lost games.

I wish I could offer a better, more cost effective suggestion. To be honest though, I'd like it if the league went a step further. I think the biggest problem right now is that there are just too many damn teams. Back in the 70s and 80s, the league was so great because teams were DEEP. The Celtics and Lakers were literally overrun with not just All Stars, but future Hall of Famers. Now, where are we? The team with a so called "Big Three" has one sure bet Hall of Famer (Kevin Garnett) and two maybes.

If there were fewer teams, which will never happen, think of how exciting each season would be. No longer would we have to suffer through watching the Mark Madsens of the world, or seeing sub-.500 teams in the playoffs. It would only be the best of the best in a more competitive, more compacted league. I know I'm only dreaming here. Leagues have swings over decades. It's been proven through time. Someday, the East will rise again and it will be the West that everyone is lambasting. So I guess the only thing we can do is deal with it.

East and West Work Fine, Thanks

I completely agree, Chris. I’ve read a lot of articles on this subject this season, and they all eventually bring me back to the same conclusion. While it would be great if the NBA could somehow realign or restructure the league or playoffs, we have to accept that this kind of maneuver just isn’t realistic. Besides the fact that the NBA isn’t willing to give up a red cent of the money generated by the current system, changing the league around might not necessarily have such a beneficial effect anyway.

I’ve suggested in comments to other posts, and in my own blog, that the best way to make the NBA more balanced, and therefore more competitive and exciting, would be to make the league smaller. Simply put, fewer teams equals fewer bad players. But this kind of drastic change is impossible. Besides the fact that it would alienate the cities whose teams are disbanded, it would severely cut into the profits of the NBA. Sure, it would make for an exciting league. But excitement is only part of the sports watching experience.

Because that’s what the NBA is. The Experience. Mark Cuban has been an innovator who has helped change the NBA into what it currently is. It’s not just watching your favorite team. It’s feeling like you are a part of that team. Changing the playoff format would not just take away from the natural rivalries, it would basically be a slap in the face of every fan who considers himself a part of his teams’ magical playoff run at 38-44. I know I sound sarcastic here, but it’s the truth. If the NBA wants to market itself as an experience, then it needs to stay loyal to that promise.

For the ESPN Addict: Ten Links

If you're like me, you can only go to ESPN.com so many times before the image of its red title banner and rolling scoreboard starts to haunt the black void behind your eyelids. And even then you still find yourself going back again, not even reading articles anymore, just going to the homepage, glancing at every score and the same month old Sports Guy mailbag. It's nothing -- as sports fans -- we can avoid. The fact is simply that: A. because we are obsessed with sports to the point that the mere sight of a box score comforts us; and B. because ESPN provides the best combination of dependable coverage and solid writing on the web, most of us have little reason to ever venture outside of ESPN.com. Therefore, I have decided to dedicate this list of links to blogs that can be found within the ESPN website. For those who are too loyal (or too lazy) to get acquainted with another sports website, these blogs will keep you informed enough to stand tall in any barstool sports conversation.

To gain a small measure of credibility for these evaluations, I used the IMSA criteria, which includes (but is not limited to), blog materials, blog Influence, content, depth, language, timing, bias, and usefulness. I also separated the blogs into categories, MLB, NBA, NFL, and Fantasy Sports. If you notice the absence of NHL here, good for you. Until the NHL leaves its ridiculous deal with the VS. Network and comes back to basic cable, I will refuse to follow it or acknowledge its existence. Lastly, you can find the links to the following blogs under the linkroll section on the left side of the page. Some blogs can only be viewed in full form by ESPN insiders.

The first baseball blog is probably the one I frequent most on ESPN, given that I am both a baseball loyalist and die hard Red Sox fan. Peter Gammons' credentials need little mention, beyond the fact that he is enshrined in the MLB Hall of Fame outstanding writing. For a straight forward, old school approach to baseball journalism, a better read than Gammons is hard to find. Year in and year out he provides a solid combination of reporting, news, speculation and MLB updates. For those who want a little less Boston/East Coast bias in their MLB blogs, Buster Olney is a solid alternative to Gammons. Olney writes a similar blog to Gammons, providing a good mix of reporting, insider information, and speculation. Unlike Gammons, Olney also provides good advice for any fantasy baseball players out there who like to get their advice from established journalists as opposed to gurus. The third and final MLB blog here belongs to Curtis Granderson. Granderson is the starting center fielder for the Detroit Tigers, and an up and coming MLB star. His blog lacks the polish of either Olney's or Gammons', but he often writes about subjects that have nothing to do with baseball, which gives his readers a unique insight into the ways players distract themselves from the stress and rigors of an MLB season.

Three NBA blogs that I spend much of my time on are True Hoop (which was already mentioned in that last linkroll entry and will not be further discussed here), Chris Broussard, and Agent Zero. Of the several NBA blogs on ESPN, Broussard's is probably my favorite. Instead of dedicating post after post to the upcoming NBA draft, which I could care less about until June, he focuses on a range of current topics, from the MVP race, to the playoff chase, to each team's coaching state. His writing is polished, and if you want to read a good opinion piece each week, he's your bet. Agent Zero is the last blog. This blog belongs to Washington Wizards' star, Gilbert Arenas. Arenas, along with Curt Schilling, was one of the first star athletes to embrace the blogosphere. He adds something new nearly everyday, and provides his readers with a rare glimpse into the mind of one of the NBA's most eccentric stars.

Ever since the Patriots lost the Super Bowl I haven't been able to stomach ESPN's NFL pages. That said, the first NFL blog I frequent is definitely John Clayton. John Clayton probably knows more about football than any man on the planet outside of Bill Belichick. His blog posts aren't going to remind anyone of James Joyce, but if you want the best source for NFL information on ESPN, John Clayton is your man. Much like Clayton, Len Pasquarelli is another good source for the most up-to-date information about the NFL. Every so often, he also writes very good opinion pieces. Unlike some ESPN writers (cough, Gregg Easterbrook), he rarely gets swept up by the hoopla of an incident (see his very grounded articles on Spygate for example).

The final three blogs are for those in search of fantasy sports advice and information. Probably the best source of advice is Eric Karabell. Winning your fantasy league is all about speculation, and few writers on ESPN have the background, knowledge, and foresight to lead your team to first that Karabell has. Best of all, he covers all three major fantasy sports (NBA, MLB, NFL), so as long as you aren't one of the three people in America who plays fantasy Nascar, you should be able to live off of Karabell. Matthew Berry is another fantasy guru for ESPN. When I read Berry, I'm often torn regarding how I feel about him. On one hand, he provides very sound advice, and often offers you the kind of risky advice that will win you a league (giving us the Corey Harts and Ryan Brauns of the world). On the other hand, at times he gets sidetracked when talking about his personal life. It's funny to hear a joke now and then, but who really wants to read a paragraph about his lack of a dating life when they're looking for fantasy advice. The last blog belongs to Stephania Bell. Stephania is the newest fantasy guru, and while she doesn't offer the same quality advice that Karabell and Berry offer, she often provides in depth, insider information that, in the right hands, can be deadly.

New linkroll items: Doing the hard work for you

Let's face it, there are more sports websites and blogs out there than any one person could ever read. Some are good. Some are bad. Some are credible, and some are little more than a clever title. I've decided to include ten sites that I frequent in the linkroll of my blog. You can find them on the left hand side of the page, under the title "LINKROLL." I will also provide a concise description of each link (I will neglect bigger sites, such as ESPN or Fox Sports, because I'm sure you've heard of them) in the following paragraphs.

Bleacher Report: The site is primarily a collection of blogs. Anyone can write for bleacher report, so the blog posts tend to be biased, and may or may not be credible. I've read many good posts on the site, primarily ones that have been linked to the front page. I've also read a few blogs that give me the sense that they were written by a guy after a long, drunk day at the ball park.

Boston Dirt Dogs: You won't find much in the way of articles on the site, which is linked to The Boston Globe website. Instead, the site consists manly of terse, witty posts, which take jabs at many Boston rivals. The site also provides tracking for many former, and current, Boston players.

CelticsBlog: This is the primary site for Celtics blogging. I haven't read much from the site, but from the small sample I've read, I glean that, similar to Bleacher Report, there are some good blogs and some poor blogs on the site.

Deadspin: The site is similar to Bleacher Report, in that it allows pretty much anyone to comment. The site proclaims in its "Commentist Manifesto" that the first rule of writing for the site is "to be funny," and it is strictly moderated to keep it that way.

Onion Sports: The Onion obviously isn't known for its sports coverage, but the sports articles on here are actually pretty funny, albeit completely false.

Reiss's Pieces: Mike Reiss is a blogger for The Boston Globe. He writes on the Patriots, and while he doesn't often write the longest, or wittiest articles, he provides a lot of "in the locker room" information about that team, that isn't really available anywhere else.

Sons of Sam Horn: Originally dedicated only to the Red Sox, the site has since expanded to all teams in all sports. You won't find any articles on here, but it is a great site for discussion forums.

Sports Guy's World: Every Boston sports fan needs to know who Bill Simmons is. He is probably the most popular sports writer at ESPN, and while you will either love or hate him, because he is a complete homer, he is very funny, very relevant, and a great read.

True Hoop: In my opinion, this is one of the best daily running NBA blogs on the internet. It is highly credible, and can be found at ESPN.

WickedBruinsFan: I'm not very familiar with this blog. But from what I gather, it is pretty much the Bruins version of CelticsBlog. The writing on here is solid, informative, and provides information about a team many people in Boston have forgotten.