K-Zone

A Tragic Night At The Ballpark

2007-07-26T02:49:39Z

Much has been made of the tragic death of Tulsa Drillers hitting coach Mike Coolbaugh Sunday night at Dickey-Stephens Park. I can tell you, from being there and seeing with my own eyes, it still gives me chills today.

I've sat down several times and tried to write about it, but for some reason I still can't set the scene like I did in an email I wrote to a cousin late Sunday night when everything was fresh on my mind...

]]> Baseball stadiums are sanctuaries in this country. Cathedrals where families and revelers -- like myself -- go to get away and have a good time. A place to smile, take in the sights and smells and sounds of America's past time. I never thought I would see anyone lose their life here.

I remember when I was much younger at a 4th of July game at the old Busch Stadium in St. Louis. I saw an old man suffer from heat exhaustion in the crowd and this nurse quickly maneuvered through two sections to help him. I was too young to really remember exactly what was going on, but I swear I remember exactly how it happened. I think he ended up being OK once he got water and some cool air, but clearly it scared the shit out of some people; at least it did one little kid.

I wonder if the events of Sunday night will have the same effect on me and I'm sure they will more so. It's not as if I've never seen death. I was the first person on the scene after someone was thrown out of a car in a bad accident on 430, and while that had a sobering effect on me -- I've never really told many people about that -- that wasn't on a baseball field. I know death is evident on the roadways. You see it on the news and in papers almost every day.

This was different. It was almost chaotic. For some reason, I felt guilty that night.
Anyways, here is part of the email I sent to my cousin. He's a big baseball fan like myself and I was sending him an email to plan some things for this week anyways, but I had to lay it all out for him.

Date: Mon, 23 Jan 2007 01:08:25 -0600
From: kmatt6@gmail.com
To: *****@************
Subject: You aren't going to believe this

As you know, I've been going to ball games my entire life but I have never seen anything like I saw earlier tonight. It was all surreal. From the eerie skies and daylight to the unusually cool summer breeze to the ambulance lights flashing as it left the park.

There were two distinctive sounds I remember hearing. The first one came from the ball hitting the bat of switch hitting DH Tino Sanchez. He was batting lefty and roped a hard line drive to the right side. First base coach Mike Coolbaugh really had no time to react. He turned his head slightly and raised his hand towards his face. This is when I heard the second sound.

It knocked him unconscious.

The first base runner leapt over to check on his coach, then jumped up flailing his arms in desperation.

Coolbaugh laid seemingly lifeless as CPR was performed on the field and IED's were used numerous times. The batter, Sanchez walked up to first base, removed his helmet and took a knee next to his teammate. His eyes welled up as another coach kneeled down and convinced him that it would be best if he walk back to the dugout to join his teammates.

Eventually an ambulance pulled on to the field and paramedics and staff carefully put him on a stretcher. A team employee who was nearby later told me he had regained a light pulse and was breathing when they loaded him in the ambulance, but still unconscious.

As they loaded him in the ambulance, the crowd which had gathered over to the first base side of the park -- partly because of the incident but also because kids were lining up in the concourse to run the bases after this final inning came to a close -- awkwardly applauded. It felt odd to clap because everything looked so bad but I guess it was an applause that endorsed hope. Hope that Mike Coolbaugh was going to be OK.

An older man with a straw hat and a ponytail -- who had clearly had a few too many beers -- loudly and pessimistically questioned why the crowd was clapping. There was a sudden heated exchange between him and a guy just below the rail he was leaning against. An officer quickly leaped in to the crowd, climbed the rail and grabbed the first man and took him upstairs to the concourse.

Almost everyone in the small section just in front of where this man was quickly followed. One even sprinted up the stairs. Clearly, the first man had struck a nerve or two. I didn't see it, but one of the dudes I was sitting with the whole game said there was almost a brawl in the concourse, before police promptly carried the ponytailed man out of the stadium.

The ambulance pulled away but the crowd was still considerably unsettled. No one really moved; the only noise was the quiet, confused and fearful conversation between fans.

The umpires met at home plate with each manager and quickly decided to suspend the game. An announcement was made and fans were told to keep Mike Coolbaugh and his family in their thoughts and prayers.

The crowd exited the stadium tonight slower than they ever have before. No kids were going to run the bases tonight. Everyone was silent.

Meanwhile, the ambulance sped to a nearby hospital.
I just found out that Mike Coolbaugh stopped breathing as they pulled in.
He was pronounced dead at 9:47.

Patrick Beverley is a Shakey Dog

2007-07-02T21:36:29Z

It has been well noted here that Patrick Beverley is really freaking awesome.

Eventually, he will reach god-like status and I am certain he is well on his way.

A quick visit to USA Basketball today gave me a nice token of enjoyment on the front page...

]]> Beverley sterilizes a China-man; his children
would've been taken by the reds anyways. Patrick Beverley punching a chinese player in the nuts. In this dead period of the sports calendar, where the only things to do are to watch anti-climatic Arena Football games, get drunk at minor league baseball games -- while keeping an eye on Rick Ankiel -- and wondering how the fuck anyone can think that the Razorbacks are going to meet high expectations, getting a little dose of basketball (in the non-NBA draft kind of way) kind of helps.

So I'm keeping up with the USA U-19 team, focusing mainly on the badassedness of one Patrick Beverley. Even though I mostly do it because I am bored. Shit, I actually watched a soccer game in its entirety the other day, something I can only do every four years or so.

In between watching Stephen A. Smith sock puppets on youtube, I got great enjoyment out of this photo. I only wish there was video of this, it would've provided hilarity on par with Walter Hodge getting pegged in the head by Beverley:

When you are a god of basketball, you can do things like this and get away with it. I predict this season Beverley will be able to go Kermit Washington on Miss State center Charles Rhodes in retaliation for last season's incident and not even be called for a foul.

Motivation

2007-03-01T20:57:09Z

Everyone keeps telling me Arkansas basketball coach Stan Heath is going to be fired soon even though his team beat Mississippi State last night, 67-58.

When a fight almost broke out early in the second half, a friend told me Stan Heath could've thrown a chair at Miss. State center Charles Rhodes, then flipped off the fans -- the ones who were there at least -- in a "blaze of glory." He said it would have been like Billy the Kid in the movie Young Guns. When he ran out of the burning house, shooting and screaming like he was dieing. He didn't die. Jon Bon Jovi wrote a song about that. He called it "Blaze of Glory."

I don't think that would have been that cool. I think that Stan should have shaved off his mustache and eyebrows.

If a black Mr. Clean can't get you motivated, nothing will.

Things That Make Me Happy

2007-02-20T19:06:30Z

I've had this same black leather bag from Dell that my laptop goes in since I went to college. I think my dad gave it to me.

Today, I figured out that this compartment on the back of it opens all the way and has two big pockets to stick papers and shit in. It's really cool and it's like I have a new laptop bag. It made my day. Kind of like the time in my freshman year when I was having sex with my girlfriend and I figured out I could stick it in her ass and she didn't mind.

I later found out that she was a total whore before dating me, so hopefully my black laptop bag doesn't fall apart or something tomorrow.

Northwest Arkansas Thunder Chickens

2007-01-18T18:44:52Z

The new Northwest Arkansas AA baseball team is looking for a mascot.
In fact, they're running a poll.
The options are: Anglers, Bass, Highlanders, Monarchs, Naturals, Ridge Runners and Thunder Chickens.

Just to take my mind off of other sports-related things here, I want to publicly endorse one of the names.
Think about it for a minute.

The Northwest Arkansas Thunder Chickens.
That is so freaking awesome.

Stan Heath Receives a Three Game Pass

2007-01-07T14:10:44Z

I expected much worse. In fact, I had some work to do and I figured on getting around to it at halftime, thinking the game might be out of hand by then. I even got a nice laugh out of the line moving down two points late to Arkansas -1. The gambler in me should have known that was a sign, but I've seen Stan Heath's teams dwindle away on the court before.

Alabama was going to murder the Hogs. It was almost documented as a fact...

]]> However, after the Hogs stomped the ever-living shit out of the eighth ranked Crimson Tide yesterday 88-61, I've decided to give Heath a three game pass from my criticisms. Yesterday was the game I had been waiting for. We had all seen the intensity turned up from time to time, and you saw it somewhat in the Tulsa game earlier in the week. I never thought I would see it from a Heath team two games in a row. Cliff Ellis was even in the booth for Lincoln Financial Sports giving us catch phrase after catch phrase, which I will use throughout this entry.I'd like to say stranger things have happened, but I doubt it.

Maybe Heath has finally figured it out. Many older coaches will tell you that you use the preseason to feel your team out, figure out who your scorers are and determine who has the best chemistry on the floor. Maybe, just maybe, Heath has been doing that. He's been trying some different rotations recently I noticed, even though he did still go with a two whiteboy lineup several times yesterday, which gave Alabama a few spurts of momentum.

It wasn't enough though. Because Charles Thomas was serving pastries. Gary Ervin was sharing the candy and it was oh so sweet. Weems finally showed up and utilized the room service. On defense, Steven Hill was the landlord and he demanded real estate. Townes served as the assistant manager under Hill and collected rent a few times. The entire team was hotter than August and no one could stop them.

The team needs to stay on fire. They head to Florida next week and they will need to bring the candy to share with each other. Florida will be ready to bring it. All I know, is that the Hogs will at least be 1-1 in SEC play come next weekend.

And in case you were wondering... yes, recounting the game this morning made me feel un-sick after watching Tony Romo bobble a football last night. Fuck football.

Seriously, Stan Really Does Suck

2006-12-01T21:50:34Z

Nolan Richardson was snowed in last night. And while I really am glad that he was unable to show for that embarrasment last night, a little part of me really deep down inside wanted to see him there.

Because it was eery and disdainful enough watching highlights of one of the greatest teams in college history win a title in 1994, but knowing that Mike Anderson had this game circled for about four years was almost as depressing as the riveting action on the floor...

]]> Such as Sean McCurdy kicking the ball around and picking up his dribble at half court, Vincent "skin and bones" Hunter (the scary part is that, I swear to god, he has put on at least 50 lbs of muscle since high school) lurching back and forth across the floor throwing balls into the crowd, Steven Hill flipping his hair and trimming his crusty handlebar 'stache as he flails wildly at balls on defense AND offense and Darian mother freakin Townes whining uncontrollably all night on the floor because his pussy hurt him too bad trying to break a press (they finally started using a press breaker that my team ran in junior high late in the second half. Yes, late in the second half).

Now that's entertainment.

While the bar area in the Chili's I was at in Little Rock closes at 11 or something like that, I wish it would've closed in the ballpark of about 9 p.m. Therefore, I wouldn't have seen some lame ass white boy nail about 500 threes while standing wide open in the corner and Ben Lindsey jumping up and down while unfolding chairs on the Mizzou bench. I should've just taken my lame ass back down the road to my favorite bar and yelled obscenities at people all night. Because that is what I always do when Stan Heath enrages me.

Look, I want to like this guy. And he seems like such a good recruiter, but McGowan and McCurdy (having two Mc's in a recruiting class is probably a problem) look like they haven't been coached since junior high. Which is interesting in and of itself considering that little Sean was coached in high school by one of the most respected coaches in the nation at that level. But he's pathetic. He's a cancer when he steps out on the floor just like Vincent Hunter.

When Heath put Hunter and McCurdy on the floor at the same time, I quickly poured myself a shot of tequila with the house liquor. Jesus Christ, that went down in a vicious manner but it still took better than the clusterfuck on the nearby TV screen. Hunter and McCurdy looked as if they were putting on a tard basketball clinic... and doing it very well.

But let's be realistic. Four games in six days is a lot, even for an NBA team. And facing a team with Anderson's "40 minutes of hell" style at the end of that run truly is hell. But that still doesn't change the fact that we will struggle to win 20 games and stay around .500 in SEC play. Maybe we'll get hot in the conference tournament and earn a bid to get smacked down by a true basketball power like Butler or Creighton in the first round. Or maybe Oral Bob can beat us at home in the NIT. If Stan decides we can play in it.

That shit just isn't going to cut it at Arkansas. I'm waiting for the basketball version of the Citadel incident now.

So long, Stan. I hardly knew ye.

LaRussa experiences first movement in a month

2006-10-03T16:35:51Z

ST LOUIS -- St. Louis Cardinals manager Tony LaRussa was elated Monday evening when he appeared outside of his home to reveal that he had succesfully taken a dump for the first time since early September.

"At first, it was just that Katrina anniversary coverage on T.V., then the 9/11 thing." LaRussa said, after wiping his ass with batting gloves on (even though no one can figure out why he even owns a pair, much less wear them). "When the team died, my sphincter tightened up so much, I couldn't even stick a pin up there."

While many had written this Cardinals squad up as the worst choke job of all time, surpassing the 1964 Philadelphia Phillies, LaRussa kept the faith.

"I had to. If I lost faith in that, then what the hell was I going to do with my bowels? They have to go somewhere."

]]> La Russa helped ease his pain earlier on Monday, by making quick decisions on who to include on his playoff roster.

"Being able to throw Johnny Load in there helped ease my pain personally in two ways," LaRussa said. "One, he's a nice lefty to pull off the bench. A free swinger, I like that. Two, just saying 'Load' to myself several times had a lot to do with the colon easing up."

"Johnny Load" is LaRussa's suggested nickname for Cardinals outfielder John Rodriguez, who fans have politely nicknamed "J-Rod." LaRussa has used Johnny Load since late last season, when asked about the "J-Rod" nickname.

"I don't like that 'J-Rod' stuff. He's got to earn something for himself. That's copy cat stuff." He said. "I don't know, something like Johnny Load. I don't know."

LaRussa said as much as he enjoyed thinking about Rodriguez, that the pain of possibly including Jason Marquis cancelled out almost all of the positives.

"Jason needs to man up. He needs to grow a pair." The Cards manager said. "Right now, he's like an ineffective Donovan Osborne with testicular cancer... and I don't mean in a Lance Armstrong kind of way either."

LaRussa and his freshly cleared colon will manage the Cardinals later today in San Diego at 4 p.m. ET on ESPN Ocho.

A Sad Day in My Sad, Sad Life

2006-09-11T20:10:19Z

Today is a horrible day. It's pouring rain and I know why. I am an idiotic underachieving piece of trash. I knew that a max bid of $10 would not get it but I got cocky. I was hungry for a steal and I was confident this time. Why in the name of Steve Irwin did I not put in a bid of at least $25? I am on suicide watch right now.

I just lost an ebay auction on an inflatable version of my favorite cartoon advertising personality of all time. The Bud Ice Penguin. Sure, he was looked down upon by some. His cat calls of "doobie, doobie doo," convinced misguided ultra conservative types that he liked certain illegal substances. But these were idiotic and untrue assumptions.

The penguin was raw and he was here to let kids and adults alike know two things:
1. Penguins are cool.
2. If you're stupid enough to buy Bud Ice, he will freaking take it from you.

]]> It's that silly penguin again.

My passion for penguins didn't stop there. As much as the movie Billy Madison sucked, at least it had a penguin. To this day, I still wish that I will see penguins when I am drunk.

I often draw penguins. Mostly to distract and confuse people. Back in my high school days, I drew penguins saying stupid things about my coworkers and posted them behind the counter of the store I worked at. The owner had to ban me from drawing them. He told me if I kept drawing them, I would be fired. I kept drawing them.

My abbreviated research suggests that two awesome sports entities use a penguin as their mascot. Youngstown State and the Pittsburgh Penguins. I don't know anything about Youngstown, Ohio, except it is a mafia town and that Maurice Clarett is from there. The only thing I know about the Pittsburgh Penguins is that Mario Lemieux owns them and they drafted that Crosby kid who is supposed to be the next Gretzky, but they're all from Canada, so who cares.

None of this info on penguins takes away my stupidity. I expected to get that inflatable penguin for $10. Damn I'm stupid.

The Biography of Lil Troy

2006-08-09T18:21:18Z

On Saturday, Troy Aikman, Harry Carson, John Madden, Warren Moon, Reggie White and Rayfield Wright were ushered into the Hall of Fame with much pomp and circumstance in a Canton, Ohio wonderland celebration. Outside of one getting in for having his name on an awesome video game, two of these inductees were more important than the others (Wright and Aikman) and of those two, one would be the greatest player alive if it were not for his shitty Oklahoma connections.

November 21, 1966, was a great day. I know it was great because in West Covina, California, a bustling baby named Troy Kenneth Aikman was born. Lil Troy was a balla and a shotcalla. But Troy’s life came to a screeching halt as his family made a desperate and life-changing decision which almost ruined his life. They forced Troy to move with them to a farm in Henryetta, Oklahomo... I mean Oklahoma. Sorry.

]]> Aikman contemplates the validity of
Eazy-E's lyrics in "Boyz in the Hood"

Henryetta was, and still is a shit hole. Troy was crushed, but his family provided him with a Redneck-to-Ebonics translator and he was determined not to be held back. He turned to sports. Troy dominated the Oklahomo high school ranks in both baseball and football, forcing his high school to retire his number. He was also involved in Future Business Leaders of America or something, but he quickly realized how gay that was and quit.

After high school, Troy’s options were laid out on the table. He could play baseball in the New York Mets organization or he could play college football. He intelligently chose football, but it ended up haunting him for a while. Oklahomo University’s ridiculous bandwagon fans pressured him into playing for Barry Switzer’s Sooners. However, Troy was unable to kick a strong cocaine habit into gear. His teammates shunned him and kept him out of the training room leading to a horrific broken leg in his Sooners debut against Miami.

Troy was pissed. When Switzer switched to a wishbone attack and won a national title, Lil Troy brought a gat into Switzer's office with full intentions of capping his ass. Switzer had Brian Bosworth tackle him, shave his head into weird eccentric designs and kick him off the team. In what turned out to be the best decision of his life, Lil Troy transferred to UCLA, where he thrived. Back to his west coast ways, he led the Bruins to a 20-4 record, including wins at the 1987 Aloha Bowl and the 1989 Cotton Bowl.

Bosworth is credited for
saving Switzer's life.

Jerry Jones, owner of the Dallas Cowboys, must have been watching closely. After driving God's team in the dirt for years, he made his first good decision and made Troy Aikman the first player selected in the 1989 NFL Draft.

Aikman was in shock, though. America’s team sucked. Since Jerry Jones came in and ran off Tom Landry — the Jesus Christ of football — the Cowboys faded into oblivion. Troy shit the bed in the first year, going 0-11 while his team went 1-15.

Troy stood his ground. He was determined to transition the NFL into the gangsta era. The next year, he led the team to a convincing 7-7 record before injuring himself the first of many times. The Cowboys lost the last two games, proving that Troy Aikman was indeed their savior.

In 1991, Troy made it to the playoffs, but lost in the first round. In 1992, the unthinkable happened. Troy stayed healthy for an entire season. This enabled him to join in on the early 90’s tradition of kicking the Buffalo Bills ass in the Super Bowl. He punked out white boy poser Jim Kelly two years in a row, increasing his bling total to two.

He brought that count up to three in 1995, but it was marred by the fact that Barry Switzer was his coach again. However, with his new partners in NFL street lore, Lil Troy, Eazy E and Crack Music Irvin had such a hold on the power of the Dallas Cowboys, that Troy's dead grandmother could've coached them from the grave and received credit for it.

Lil Troy’s day in the Hall of the Fame finally came Saturday. No doubt, he has experienced quite a bit in his life so far. After living in the trashcan of America (seriously, that’s why they made the Indians go there), Troy experienced cocaine-loving teammates in both college and NFL careers which undoubtedly led to his three concussions per year late in his career. You just can't snort what you sell y'know?

Troy gives back to the kids, though. His foundation spends money on sick children in hospitals.
Yes, Mr. Aikman has a heart that King Midas would be jealous of. When he donates blood, he has to have multiple security guards on hand to make sure Mr. T doesn’t steal the liquid gold that comes out. (Rumors that Mr. T removed his chains after Katrina were greatly exaggerated.)

Troy Aikman is no longer a man, he is street legend. The Pro Football Hall of Fame will soon build a 50 foot statue outside the entrance and rename the building Aikman Land. People will forever walk upon the compound and say to their self, “Troy is the greatest man to ever play the game,” in their best NFL Films voice.

Troy is currently pursuing his options as a full time rap producer, working out of the studio in his Dallas area home.

Difusión del Español

2006-07-25T18:38:15Z

When I was a much younger Cardinal fan, I used to sneak an old AM radio to bed to catch Cardinals postgame shows with Mike Shannon and Jack Buck on KMOX. I even called in once to say something about Pedro Guerrero being a badass. It worked out great when the Cards were playing on the west coast, becuase I would be able to hear most of the game as well.

There were issues with this though. Being all the way down in Hope, Arkansas, KMOX didn't exactly come in crystal clear. In fact, some nights it was a down right challenge to even make out what was being said. I'm not down with all the logistics involved with AM Radio, but I do remember this hispanic station being near KMOX on the dial. It often times interfered, which made me angry, but then this sense of enjoyment ran through me as the jubilant latin tunes danced through my ears. It was kind of like how I secretly enjoyed The Devil Wears Prada. Fun to listen to or watch, as long as my friends never find out.

]]> Some may say it was magic or something, but I just liked the mexican music. It was something I actually never really thought about again until a couple of weeks ago.

The Sunday before the All-Star break, ESPN picked up Cardinals @ Astros for its Sunday night game. Normally, I opt to hear the Cardinals broadcast team over the horrific regurgitations of Joe Morgan and Jon "I will pronounce my spanish perfectly and you will KNOW it" Miller, however, I was at a girl's house watching. It would've taken 15 minutes to explain why I want to listen on the radio and watch TV, so I didn't bother.

Something amazing happened, though. ESPN lost its audio feed. Alternate audio had to be used for a while, with ESPN Deportés play-by-play man Ernesto Jerez alternating between spanish and english the entire time. It was funny and awkward at first, until Scott Rolen blasted his 3-run homer in the top half of the 8th:

"Rolen conectando... A lo profundo... y ¡no... no no nono noooo.! ¡Dígale que no a esa PELOTA!"

It was exciting. Unlike when Chris Berman tries to emulate Jerez in the Home Run Derby, with disastrous results, Jerez's calls are uplifting, and send you into a euphoric sense of being. The only way I can really explain it is how an old guy at a piano bar the other night said everyone would climax if the piano player played James Taylor. It was just like that.

So, this is what I propose to ESPN. Replace the horrific Sunday Night crew with Ernesto Jerez and Bob Uecker or someone cool like that. It's a win-win. You get awesome home run calls AND you still get Jon Miller's favorite latin names pronounced perfectly.

ESPN is already on the right track by essentially firing Bill Curry and then firing Harold Reynolds, so I expect Ernesto Jerez to get some sort of promotion soon.

¡Viva Ernesto!