The Silver Standard

I never agree with Ray Lewis. In fact, doing the opposite of whatever he does is probably a very safe and legal way to live life.

Yet after reading about the “gaining momentum” behind adding two more regular-season games to the NFL schedule, I have to admit ol’ Ray is right in opposing this scheme.

In case you missed it, current Green Bay Packers president and my alma mater’s former athletic director Mark Murphy gushed to every major media outlet about the proposal to eliminate two preseason games and add two regular-season games starting in 2012.

First of all, let’s just hope there is football in 2012.

A lockout seems all but certain at this point in 2011 once the current Collective Bargaining Agreement expires. Who knows how long that will last with such greedy and stubborn parties on both sides of the negotiating table.

Assuming the NFL continues without interruption, this is a horrendous plan.

The logic behind this, according to Murphy, is that preseason games are boring, meaningless and really of little value to players and coaches.

YES. We all agree on that.

But regular-season games are awesome and make a ton of money. So adding more of them is obviously beneficial to all.

WRONG.

In this case you can have too much of a good thing.

Surprisingly Lewis expressed his concerns well when he said, “I know our fans may not like preseason games and I don't like all of them, but swapping two preseason games for two end-of-season games -- when players already play hurt -- comes at a huge cost for the player and the team.”

In a perfect world we scrap all but maybe one preseason game. I do think two is a good number for now. Get one in for the practice squad players then have the next week be a true tune-up before the regular season.

Although I would love nothing more than the NFL lasting all 52 weeks of the year, I’m just not sure lengthening the regular season is the way to go.

Injuries, as Lewis pointed out, are of course always a concern.

It is certainly not the strongest opposition because football is a violent game. Nothing you can do about that no matter how long the season is. Certainly an increase in games would increase the likelihood of injury and make the playoffs a true test of iron will to get to the Super Bowl.

My main concern is devaluing what seems to be a near-perfect system now.

The NFL is the lifeblood of American sports because every week matters so much. Unfortunately we’ve already seen how the final few weeks can become just as meaningless as preseason games with starters on the bench and no real stake in the outcomes.

Don’t you think this would happen more often with 18 games?

Realistically, though, this change will probably be implemented in a few years.

The NFL is a cash cow and money rules all. This decision might be veiled in increasing competition and improving the product for fans, but it is really about the mighty dollar. By the way, when the NFL has to pay players more for a longer season, who do you really think is going to foot the bill? The owners? Ha, not a chance. Get ready for the already outrageous ticket, parking and beer prices to rise again.

To be fair, there are some positives to this plan.

Certainly more games to watch are a plus. Us fantasy geeks will have a longer season as well, which means more time for me to put off school work. And if the NFL keeps extending the season, the Super Bowl in New York might actually be above freezing.

Ideally, the NFL would shorten the preseason and leave the regular season alone. I guarantee this will not happen.

With two additional games to win, I think it is safe to say that the 1972 Dolphins can get the champagne ready for eternity.

Jim Joyce – welcome to baseball infamy.

Sure, probably only a handful of diehard baseball nuts had even heard of Jim Joyce or pitcher Armando Galarraga before Wednesday night, but the two will now forever be linked in one of the worst robberies since the days of Bonnie and Clyde.

In case you have been living under a rock or in fact have a life besides incessantly checking sports websites, here is the skinny:

Random Detroit pitcher is one out from a perfect game. These are rare. So rare in fact that only 20 other people have EVER thrown one. So it’s kind of a big deal. Cleveland batter grounds between first and second, the first baseman throws to Galarraga covering the bag for a rather routine out. Only one this night, on this one career-defining play the good old man in blue decides he is going to make a safe call. (You can check out a game recap and a video of the botched call here.)

Video replay confirms what everyone except union-protected and apparently blind Jim Joyce already knew; the runner was out – by a lot.

I am the first to admit that I’m not a baseball guy. So here are the words of one of the country’s biggest baseball guys, Tyler Kepner of the New York Times. Kepner wrote that, “Joyce’s decision is easily the most egregious blown call in baseball over the last 25 years.”

After watching the replay himself, Joyce has since admitted he made the wrong call. But guess what? That’s just not good enough for America’s former favorite pastime because the sport embraces change as if it were the plague.

This is a perfect example as to why Major League Baseball needs instant replay.

The main complaint is that it would lengthen an already snooze-fest of a game. While this might be true, using instant replay a few times a game won’t do too much. I mean what's three hours and 15 minutes versus three hours?

Look at the NFL, NHL, NBA and even professional tennis. Replay slows the game a bit, but fans and players are more than willing to accept that in exchange for a correct call.

While we’re at it, what about a shot clock for pitchers and batters? Nobody needs more than 20 seconds to prepare for the next pitch.

If the MLB really wanted to make this situation right it would overturn Joyce’s boneheaded call, give Galarraga his perfect game and punish their union-protected umpire for incompetence.

Bud Selig, if you need me, I’ll be watching hockey where the referees are actually in shape, use instant replay and are held accountable for their mistakes.

It is time to come out of hiding.

I am not sure I will ever fully recover from the Pittsburgh Penguins’ Game (if you can even call it a game) 7 against the Montreal Canadiens. It was an embarrassment of epic proportions.

To make matters worse, I spent the past weekend in Philadelphia where I couldn’t even drink my misery away without bumping into a raucous Flyers fan celebrating their own Game 7 triumph. Those Broad Street Bullies sure seem like a lock for “Team of Destiny” with a 2-0 series lead in the conference final, eh?

What is most painful, though, is facing the consequences of supporting Sidney Crosby.

I truly never imagined that I would have to take back everything I said about him, but it is time to line up at the crow buffet.

I should have seen the signs starting in the Olympics.

Despite being a non-factor for most of the Gold Medal run, Crosby worked his magic in overtime against Team USA for the winning goal. I thought for sure it would happen again in Game 7. Not even close.

Maybe the magic had run out, or he was tired or he just didn’t want it enough. Perhaps Hal Gill on one leg really is that good of a defender. Whatever the reason, Crosby, as well as Evgeni Malkin, was nowhere to be found pretty much the entire series against the Canadiens. Marc-Andre Fleury, despite flashing moments of brilliance, couldn’t stop a softball for the most part.

Now after seeing Ovechkin and Crosby completely dumbfounded by the play of Montreal netminder Jaroslav Halak, you have to wonder what Philadelphia knows that nobody else did.

How were the Flyers able to post 6-0 and 3-0 victories already when the Capitals and Penguins resembled the pre-Gordon Bombay District 5 squad staring in awe at the evil Hawks?

Although I hate Philly sports teams, I’ll jump on the Flyers bandwagon for this run for no other reason than the fairy tale story revolving around a regular-season finale shootout just to make the playoffs.

In my dream world the Flyers will take down the Chicago Blackhawks in six games.

Just watch out if they actually do win the Stanley Cup, but because Flyers’ fans are quite a special breed as illustrated by this attack on a Montreal hockey writer’s car. I smell a riot brewing.

Finally, on a completely off-topic installment of “Today in Steroids,” cyclist Floyd Landis admitted to using pretty much ever performance enhancer he could get his hands on.

Yawn.

Are we really surprised by this anymore? I can’t think of a truly innocent athlete falsely accused of using steroids. Sure, they swear innocence at the time, but the truth eventually always comes out.

I think we should create an amnesty day where every athlete using an illegal substance can come out and own up to it without fear of punishment. I’m willing to bet more than 75 percent of athletes in every sport throughout the world would have something to admit.

Let’s not forget about the most recent news regarding Santana Moss and the dirty doctor from Canada either.

I have said it before and I will say it again. Professional athletes are not role models and they will do anything to keep up with or gain an edge on their competition.

It is fun to hate Sidney Crosby.

I get it.

He is the best hockey player in the world. He wins a lot of championships and awards. He even has the audacity to not showboat or get in trouble off the ice.

Basically Crosby is a Prom King, Student Council President, teacher’s pet and Abercrombie model all rolled into one.

I mean, who could cheer for a guy like that? (Besides Pittsburgh Penguins’ fans, obviously.)

Well, I tell you who – Canadians with any semblance of respect for the game of hockey, particularly in Montreal.

Yes, Crosby is a Penguin, and Montreal should absolutely hate Pittsburgh right now, but why are Canadiens’ fans going to extremes to harass Crosby?

Every time Crosby touches the puck at the Bell Centre the raucous crowd showers him with booing. Often that arena erupts with “Crosby sucks” chants. A local pizza shop has even put a Crosby jersey on the sidewalk to let people and dogs trample on it.

Really, Montreal? I mean, come on. I always expected this kind of behavior in Philadelphia or even Washington, but Montreal?

A few months ago you were practically ready to elect Crosby as prime minister of Canada and now he is public enemy No. 1? I feel like he should give Rodney Dangerfield a call, the guy just can't get any respect.

How quickly a nation forgets Sid’s gold medal-winning overtime goal. What about the World Junior championship he won? Or you know, that whole bringing the sport of hockey – your sport – back into the mainstream by living up to every expectation that comes with being the face of the NHL.

Rub your feet on a Malkin jersey or boo Cooke for taking cheap shots at your players, but what do you gain from hurling insults at a young man who has done nothing but proudly represent your nation and its national pastime?

Sure, I boo Pittsburghers like Oakland Raiders quarterback Bruce Gradkowski when he plays the Steelers. Gradkowski, though, isn’t even on the same stratosphere as Crosby.

To Crosby’s credit, he admits that he is used to all the hate.

"I didn't really go looking or expecting anything,” Crosby said. “I'm out there playing, I don't really realize that kind of stuff now. After playing so many games in Philly, I think that just becomes part of what you expect on the road.”

Last I checked Crosby led the league in postseason points. So please keep it up, haters.

I really don’t know why I haven’t learned my lesson at this point.

Every time I get excited for a Floyd Mayweather fight it always ends in the same bland form of dissatisfaction.

They are not terrible matches, but every fight I am left wanting something more.

Maybe it’s because Mayweather’s methodical style in the ring is polar opposite from his eccentric, wannabe-gangster charade outside of it. Maybe it’s all of the grappling instead of punching.

Or maybe it’s just my unwillingness to accept that Mayweather truly is better than everyone else out there – that he really can back up all of his trash talk.

Either way, Mayweather’s lackluster, yet convincing win over Shane Mosley Saturday night was just one more reason why I’m praying to the boxing gods to allow a Mayweather/Pacquiao fight.

I’m sick of seeing Mayweather pick apart opponents without even breaking a sweat. He needs a real challenger and Pacquiao is just the man for the job.

Unfortunately I’ll say there is only a 25 percent chance this dream bout occurs due to Pacquiao’s puzzling refusal to submit to thorough drug testing.

For now boxing fans just have to accept that Mayweather will continue to collect $20 million paychecks for sparring sessions with weak opponents until Pacquiao steps up to the plate.

Enough with the bitterness, though, because I’m really just upset that I didn’t win a single cent on the Kentucky Derby this weekend.

I’m also fuming at Comcast.

You would think in 2010 in a densely populated suburb of Pittsburgh that they would offer Pay-Per-View in HD. Think again.

That absolutely floored me tonight. I couldn’t even allow Mayweather to lull me to sleep in the best quality picture. Really Comcast? Pay-Per-View sporting events in HD are that hard to deliver? Does anyone have the Verizon Fios phone number?

On a completely different note, Chris Brown needs a new PR manager.

Who in their right mind thought having Chris Brown butcher the National Anthem at a boxing match was a good idea? This was the man who beat up his girlfriend. So let's just put him in a boxing ring for his next major public appearance. Makes total sense, right?

Finally, there were a lot of NFL quarterback sightings today. Aaron Rodgers took in the Kentucky Derby from the luxury suites and Mark Sanchez was ringside at the Mayweather/Mosley fight.

Attention, Big Ben, this is what NFL quarterbacks are supposed to do. Go live the high life at major events with other stars rather than down $1 High Lifes in rural Georgia with college kids.

Oh, and let’s go, Pens!

Let me preface this post by saying, yes, I know the Pittsburgh Penguins lost in triple overtime last night. I’m sure the brave anonymous posters below will satiate themselves ripping Sidney Crosby. Go right ahead. I’ll get back to you when he is hoisting another Stanley Cup.

Today’s blog, though, is about the most powerful man in the entire country – NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell.

Really, stop and think about what this man just pulled off in the Ben Roethlisberger drama.

By suspending a two-time Super Bowl champion quarterback without any criminal convictions, Goodell essentially crowned himself dictator of professional sports.

I always knew he had the power to do this sort of thing. But this takes it to an entirely new stratosphere.

What boggles my mind is why the NFL Players’ Association is not up in arms. This ruling sets a dangerous precedent for every single NFL player.

Goodell can suspend whomever he wants, whenever he wants, for whatever he wants. Heck, every woman in America should celebrate for having ultimate leverage power now. If you accuse an NFL player of wrongdoing, no matter if it is true or not, that player is probably going to get suspended.

Really, where does this slippery slope end?

Let’s examine the Big Ben case.

I do not know if Roethlisberger has a serious mental problem aside from his stupid propensity to throw interceptions and hold the ball longer than he should.

I also do not know if he raped those women in Georgia or in Nevada.

My gut tells me that Roethlisberger is a misogynist of the worst degree and that he has not outright raped anyone, but that he has certainly taken advantage of intoxicated women.

He is also extremely immature and dumb to continually put himself in these compromising positions.

The guy is a multimillionaire NFL quarterback. If he can’t get someone to sleep with him sober and not in a bar bathroom, then he has problems no doctor can fix.

My point is that in order to avoid this mess again he and every other NFL player should probably adopt hermit lifestyles. No crime will not mean no punishment anymore.

Goodell placated the masses here with a six-game suspension, but how does Santonio Holmes, a player with a true criminal record, only get four games for failing a drug test while Roethlisberger gets six games without even committing a crime?

What about Jeff Reed? That guy is the definition of disorderly conduct and he has never been suspended? Why?

I am truly shocked the NFLPA would allow itself to wither into such a weak state.

Trust me, this is only the beginning football fans.

Imagine the next time your favorite player Tweets something idiotic or a compromising photo surfaces. Suspensions galore.

Goodell should be referred to here on out as Dictator Goodell.

Try to find a Fortune 500 CEO with as much power as Goodell. To fire someone you really need good reason or you face a lawsuit. Not Roger.

Look at our own elected leaders. These men and women break both real and “morality” laws all of the time and it’s nearly impossible to kick them out of office.

But if a drunk girl cries foul, you better believe your quarterback is a goner.

Congrats to Goodell for pulling this off, but while all of you Steelers haters celebrate our upcoming 6-10 season, I want you to know that the Dictator is coming for your star player next.

I promised myself when I started this blog that I would not talk about politics.

Even though anonymous posters, emboldened by the cloak of a witty username, can somehow find a way to turn a 7-10 split or a missed free throw into a debate about socialism, I never wanted to be the one injecting politics into a sports story.

Today I am breaking my own rule, however, after reading this Associated Press report about Congress’ latest waste of time -- banning chewing tobacco from Major League Baseball.

Yes, forget about the recession, high unemployment, healthcare reform and those two little things called wars we are fighting on the other side of the world, because our elected officials are more worried about what professional baseball players are putting in their mouths.

To recap, “At a hearing Wednesday, House Energy and Commerce Committee chairman Henry Waxman, a California Democrat, and Health Subcommittee chairman Frank Pallone, a New Jersey Democrat, called on baseball and its players to agree to bar major leaguers from using chew, dip or similar products during games.”

To get this out of the way now, I do not chew, I have never tried it and I never will. I think chewing is one of the most disgusting habits on the planet.

Yet none of that means I want Congress wasting its time on chewing tobacco in baseball or any other sport.

Actually, a little known fact is that probably more professional hockey players chew than baseball. When I lived on the Las Vegas Wranglers’ team bus last year, I’d say about half the team chewed nonstop.

Back to the point, why is Congress so worked up about this issue? And why now?

None of this makes any sense.

Sure, I get the whole “we don’t want little kids emulating their MLB heroes and sticking chew in their back pockets” thing. That is partly why MLB players are not allowed to smoke in uniform and why chewing tobacco is banned in the minor leagues.

Newsflash for our lawmakers -- the use of chewing tobacco is still rampant in the minor leagues (I’ve witnessed it firsthand) and you all really struck out hard on the steroids issues.

Frankly, if the taste of chew, the massive health problems it causes and the fact that no respectable girl will kiss you after chewing is not enough of a deterrent, then nothing Congress says will stop a 12-year-old from picking up his first pouch.

My favorite out-of-touch quotation in this story comes from Anna Eshoo, a California Democrat, who asked, "Why don't they just chew gum if they feel the need to chew something?"

I don’t know, Anna, why don’t baseball players just eat more protein rather than inject themselves with steroids if they need to grow bigger muscles?

My real issue with all of this is that it leads to a slippery slope of moral judgments on our athletes and the influence they have on children.

Will Congress ban tattoos and piercings next?

If they are so worried about health risks, I think Congress should take a hard look at the fried food served in public school cafeterias instead of what professional athletes put in their bodies.

By the way, happy tax day. Great to know your dollars are funding meetings like this one, right?

The wide world of philandering athletes just keeps getting better.

After receiving a lot of negative reactions to my “Judge athletes on performance not personal life” post, supposed nice guy Tiki Barber did me a favor by reaffirming my thoughts with his best John Edwards impression.

That’s right, the affable running back turned television personality is leaving his long-time and now pregnant wife to rock some barely legal slam piece that used to intern for NBC, according to The New York Post.

It’s sad to see a marriage of 11 years come to an end and know that four kids will have to grow up without an attentive father – especially a father that once publicly reprimanded his own absentee father.

Unfortunately this only proves my point from a few weeks ago. Athletes are athletes. Judge them on the field but do not hold them to any higher standards than the average guy on the street.

In fact, it’s probably safe to hold them to a lower standard.

Tiki’s new girlfriend better watch out for the next crop of college interns.

While we are on the subject of unfaithful husbands, Sir Eldrick Woods will not only play in the Masters this weekend, but he will appear numerous times in perhaps the creepiest commercial ever made:



Everything about this commercial seems off.

From the disturbing close-up of Tiger’s supposed repentant face to his father’s ghostly words, which Nike is basically using to say, “My son did about the worst thing possible to his family, but he will be come back stronger and make you want to buy more Nike crap.”

Unfortunately the commercial ends with a lonely swoosh. Where is the “Just Do It” slogan when we need it most for comedic relief?

In what could very well be my first and last Major League Baseball blog of the year, I want to use it to publicly tell David Ortiz to shut up.

There are many reasons to treat the beginning of the MLB season with as much enthusiasm as a wet burp – excruciatingly long games, an even longer 162-game season and a salary cap hierarchy that eliminates all parity in the league.

But chief among my reasons for not liking pro baseball, beside the fact that the Pittsburgh Pirates haven’t had a winning season since I was in diapers, are whining prima donnas such as David Ortiz.

In case you missed it, Big Papi did some big pouting Tuesday night after starting the season 0-for-7.

Ortiz launched into an expletive-filled tirade when reporters pressed him on his hit-less start by reminding him of his poor performance at the beginning of the 2009 season.

Some of Ortiz’s gems are as follows:

"Good," he said, turning to face the reporters encircling him. "You guys wait till [expletive] happens, then you can talk [expletive]. Two [expletive] games, and already you [expletives] are going crazy ... "What's up with that, man? [Expletive]. [Expletive] 160 games left. That's a [expletive]. One of you [expletives] got to go ahead and hit for me."

Now, to be fair, the season just started and for all we know Ortiz could finish the year .450 with 50 home runs.

After posting a .185 batting average with only one homer in April and May last season, however, the reporters in Boston had every right to question Ortiz on his poor start as it appears to be a steady downward trend with a 34-year-old well past his prime.

The man has one job – hit the ball. Seriously. He doesn’t have to throw or catch or even really run. Just hit the ball and get $13 million. I highly doubt he can even run a mile without collapsing, but that’s not what earns him the paycheck, so I’ll let that slide.

Really, the pure economics of his situation is enough to make anyone queasy.

Last season Ortiz pocketed $86,667 dollars per game, which is roughly $24,000 per at-bat. His whopping .238 batting average means Ortiz earned more than $100,000 per hit.

Think about that. This guy makes more per hit than most Americans see in a year and he is crying about a question from a reporter? You have to be kidding me.

I really have no sympathy for this guy.

If Ortiz doesn’t want the intense public scrutiny of being a professional baseball player, then go find another job.

Or if the burden of being an international superstar is too much to handle then come play for the Pirates and make a few hundred thousand dollars a year. After a few games nobody in town will care about you. Trust me.

To end on an uplifting note, Ortiz notched his first hit Wednesday night against the Yankees.

The Big Dud is now 1-for-11. Better get the tissues ready in Boston, this could be a long season.

I tried as hard as I could to stay out of the whole Ben Roethlisberger situation, because pretty much everyone who has a voice or a keyboard has already said so much.

But the other night my mom brought it up. Yes, this is how crazy Pittsburghers are. Even moms think of the Steelers’ players as their own children.

Basically she thinks the Steelers should cut Roethlisberger because he is an idiot and is ruining the team’s reputation. She’s right. He is an idiot and he is hurting the reputation of one of the model franchises in the NFL. Yet, that is no reason to cut him.

I explained to my mom that the Steelers and most NFL teams would have to cut half of their rosters if we were basing the privilege to play professional football on personal conduct/criminal behavior. Just look at Pittsburgh’s last Super Bowl victory. Big Ben (multiple accusations of sexual assault) throws the winning pass to Santonio Holmes (marijuana possession, domestic abuse) and Jeff Reed (multiple public intoxication citations) kicks the extra point.

Unfortunately this is the harsh reality of professional sports. We want our athletes to be heroes. We want them to be role models. We want them to actually appreciate the millions of dollars they earn.

Really we want them to be guys our moms would like.

Yet I know, and a lot of sports fan now know, this is extremely unrealistic.

Look at the latest report from the NFL combine that pot smoking is an “epidemic” at the Draft Combine.

What are the GMs supposed to do? Pass on the best talent because of this? No, of course not. Heck, Ricky Williams eventually turned it around.

Athletes are athletes. They are paid to perform. They are not paid to be civic leaders or role models. If you want it that way, then start trying to remake our entire society.

If any parents are reading this -- and I know my mom is -- I realize there not many “role model” worthy people left in the world, but please do not make it a professional athlete.

So what will happen with Big Ben? He’ll probably escape criminal charges, but he might receive a suspension from Roger Goodell. Either way, he’ll continue to play for the Steelers. As will so many others with actual, official criminal records.

I’m not saying it’s right, but it’s the way it is, so get over it.

I really don’t know why I get my hopes up anymore.

After conceding every December that Northwestern will never string together an NCAA tournament-worthy regular season, I always pin my Big Dance dreams on a miraculous run through the Big Ten tournament.

Once again NU let me down.

This year the Wildcats’ season came to an end against Purdue in the Big Ten quarterfinals. Yes, it was a close game (69-61) and I’ll admit the Boilermakers were extremely unimpressive as the Wildcats did everything they could to not win the game, but that does not change the end result – no NCAA tournament bid and most likely not even an NIT berth.

When will enough be enough? Why do the school, athletic department, alums and fans continue to support such a joke of a basketball program?

I can’t help but reread a column I wrote for The Daily Northwestern during my junior year as an undergraduate titled, "The Time Has Passed For Carmody".

The basic gist was that NU needed to fire coach Bill Carmody and I still believe this is the only way to salvage the team.

In that column three years ago I wrote, “… With Bill Carmody at the helm of our Cats, I will never even be able to dream of having a "good" basketball team here. I'd celebrate a mediocre team, but Carmody can't even pull that off.”

Today I am willing to admit that Carmody has surpassed mediocrity. A record-setting 20-13 season this year is nothing to sneeze at. Progress has been made.

But does a winning season, Carmody’s first since the 2001-02 campaign, really deserve another 10 years to try to make the NCAA tournament?

I know what the counterarguments are. The team is now winning. They have a solid group of starters returning next season. They won 20 games without Kevin Coble. They are not getting blown out anymore, as each game is competitive.

Excuse me while I yawn.

Coming close just doesn’t cut it anymore. At some point Carmody has to be judged based on the end result. Make the NCAA tournament or find a new job. It is simple.

Consider that over 10 seasons, I repeat TEN SEASONS, Carmody is 140-162 overall with a 51-115 Big Ten record. How in the world has this man kept his job for so long by winning less than one third of all conference games?

It is truly mind-blowing.

Carmody has clearly earned himself another year, but at some point somebody in power has to set the bar at making the NCAA tournament or NU will never be in it.

Then again, Carmody might become a hero when the field expands to 96 teams and he leads the Wildcats to the Bigger Dance. That’s still probably hoping for too much.

On a completely unrelated note, I have to post this video of Snoop Dogg showing Sidney Crosby some love at the 1:20 mark.



On my last post about Crosby a few haters ripped him for not living up to the “legend” hype.

Yea, you can all shut up now. At the age of 22 Crosby has won a Stanley Cup, an Olympic Gold Medal, the Art Ross Trophy, the Hart Trophy and the Lester B. Pearson Trophy.

Oh and he’s only put up a measly 86 points in 67 games this season while scoring a league-leading 45 goals.

Boy, that Sidney Crosby. What a letdown, eh?

NFL free agency has certainly started off with a bang and I’m grateful for that. This time of year can be rough for me because Sportscenter becomes obsessed with Spring Training and the NBA – two things I really do not care about.

Thankfully, football is on the tongue once again and this free agency period should carry me through the NFL Draft in April. Remember, we still don’t know where Michael Vick will land or if the Eagles will even let him go.

At some point I will do an in-depth analysis of all of the NFL roster moves, but for now, here are some thoughts that I think I think.

First of all, I hope Tom Brady drowned in his cereal bowl upon hearing the news that the New York Jets will now be impossible to throw against. Darrelle Revis could probably cover an opposing offense by himself, but now he has Antonio Cromartie next to him? That is ridiculous.

This is a great move by Rex Ryan and Co.

Yes, I know the knock on Cromartie. He has an off-field rap sheet that would make Lil Wayne blush, but the man has proven he can play. How quickly we forget his 10 interceptions in 2007.

Granted, the Jets did literally run over Cromartie in the playoffs, but New York’s scheme could make him a Pro Bowler once again. He will certainly get tested plenty as nobody wants to throw to Revis. Wow, stop and think about Revis and Cromartie feasting on the Buffalo Bills twice a year. Those games are good for at least two picks each.

Speaking of feasting, I can’t wait to see Julius Peppers treat Brett Favre like the Bellagio buffet. If Peppers officially signs with the Chicago Bears and if Favre retires, un-retires, retires then un-retires again this will be one heck of a match-up.

Perhaps the thought of the 6-foot-7, 283-pound freak of a defensive end planting him into the ground will keep Favre on his couch in Wranglers for all future Sundays.

Finally, after watching the Carolina Panthers’ top brass put on the whole crying charade after releasing Jake Delhomme, I now need a new vomit bag.

Seriously Marty Hurney and John Fox? You’re crying over releasing your own quarterback? You have got to be kidding me.

This is football. If Tom Hanks didn’t allow crying in "A League of Their Own," then I’ll be damned if I’ll allow crying in the NFL.

Not to mention – you released him. That’s like dumping someone with the “It’s me, not you” line. Bosses don’t cry when they fire people. They have the power to not fire you if you’re that good.

Sure, this might prove to be the best move for the Panthers in the long term, but I really don’t see it. Delhomme was miserable at best last season, but the guy put together quite a career. Not to mention, the Panthers still owe him a ton of money and now they pin their hopes on Matt Moore?

Maybe Moore is the second coming of John Elway. Who knows? Right now, though, he is unproven and he does not have a ton of talent around him. Perhaps Carolina is really just buying time until they announce a trade for Michael Vick.

In the meantime, stop crying and play some football.

As I struggled to recover from Canada’s overtime triumph on Sunday evening, I turned on the local KDKA news to see how the Pittsburgh media would cover the coronation of Sidney Crosby as Canada’s newest god.

This particular station decided to interview some less than sober clientele at bars downtown to gauge their reactions.

Most responses were of the mundane variety such as, “If we had to lose, at least it was Crosby who scored” or “I still love Sidney, but I want to hate him today.”

Then one inebriated patron launched into a tirade about how Crosby doesn’t want to win another Stanley Cup since he is so happy now and how he has no motivation to work hard anymore.

Cue the remote control flying across the room.

Is this guy serious?

First of all, if that were true, then nobody would ever win multiple championships in any sport.

But let’s focus on Sidney Crosby.

Even after winning the Cup last season, Crosby still had to prove himself with a gold medal. Despite all of his accomplishments on the ice, he knew anything short of gold in Vancouver would cast a cloud over his career.

I saw how the pressure burdened him firsthand prior to the Olympic break as the Penguins faced the Nashville Predators at Mellon Arena.

In that game Crosby took a slap shot off his skate and gingerly left the ice. Once on the bench he threw a tantrum of epic proportions. He snapped his stick in half, barked at team trainers to stay away and he sulked with his head beneath the boards for several shifts.

I had never seen Crosby lose his composure like that before and he admitted in his post-game comments how much the Olympics meant to him and that’s why he was upset about a potential injury.

Although that injury was minor, it was a microcosm for the tournament. He had to be perfect and frankly, he wasn’t. He tried too hard and was ultimately missing from many score sheets. None of that matters now, though, as Crosby is forever inscribed in Canadian hockey lore.

That gold medal and the lifting of his country’s high expectations are exactly why Crosby is now even more likely to win another Stanley Cup.

He is now just playing for himself. He can have fun and enjoy himself. Have you ever seen the kid smile so much as he did after his overtime winner?

Crosby has done everything he ever wanted to do and now it is solely about the love of the game.

Once he recovers from the post-Olympics hangover I expect to see a much looser, more offensively potent Crosby lead the Penguins deep into the playoffs.

With 20 games remaining in the regular season it is very likely that Crosby could post 30 more points. I predict Crosby finishes the season somewhere near 60 goals and 100 points.

Will he win another Cup this year? Who knows, the Penguins are not the top team right now, but they certainly have a shot.

No matter what happens this season, Crosby is now, at least psychologically, a free man. And that, drunk guy on KDKA, is truly good news for Pittsburgh.

NBC does not deserve this, but diehard hockey fans and even casual sports watchers certainly do -- USA vs. Canada for the men’s Olympic hockey gold medal on a real channel, in HD and without tape delay.

This is a dream match-up for a largely uninspired Olympics that is still searching for its “Michael Phelps moment.” While this game might not increase hockey’s fan base long term, it certainly can’t hurt right now.

This single game might even save one of the worst Olympics I can remember. (Side note, I’m still just really bitter that there was no Sasha Cohen this year, but beyond that, have you really been glued to the TV like most of the world was during the Beijing games?)

But before Gary Bettman and Dick Ebersol explode with excitement over this Sunday afternoon blockbuster, I want to chime in with a few key observations.

First of all, if the Americans do win the gold medal, the IOC, USOC and whatever other OC’s are in the world better be prepared for a tsunami of partying, or as the hockey community calls it, a gong show.

Trust me, this squad of young Americans will put on a gonger to end all gongers.

If you thought the Canadian women smoking cigars and chugging beer was bad, just wait. I’m personally just excited to see how the media react to the impending TMZ galleries of their Vancouver antics.

Oh a shirtless snowboarder had a girl kiss his medal? Please. Patrick Kane might not put on a shirt for a week if he wins gold.

Phelps and the infamous bong photo? Child's play compared to what Ryan Malone, Brooks Orpik and Ryan Whitney are going to do. Ask any Pittsburgher that has seen these boys out on a Saturday night on the South Side. They’ll be sipping on something more than a wine cooler.

Yet beyond my childish and fratty desire to see the Americans demolish Vancouver’s ice as an entire nation cries, I really do think the U.S. could prevail. This squad is young enough and in a sense stupid enough to believe they can win this game ... again.

Although the Canadians will certainly have the crowd, tradition and international playing experience on their side, not to mention that 5-3 loss to avenge from last week, our neighbors from the North might be putting themselves at a disadvantage for poor roster management.

This brings me to my second point -- Canada needs a goalie controversy, so I'm going to start one.

At this point the gold medal appears to be Roberto Luongo’s to win or lose, but should it be? Don’t get me wrong; Luongo is a fantastic goalie on a really hot streak now.

Despite lacking a lot of Olympic playing experience, Luongo is 11-11 in NHL career playoff games with a .930 save percentage and a 2.09 goals-against-average.

I’m mainly concerned, however, with Luongo’s mental vacation in the third period against Slovakia on Friday night.

I don’t know if he was already thinking about the gold medal contest, but Luongo came extremely close to allowing Slovakia to force overtime.

So does that mean the Canadians should start Martin Brodeur?

Nobody has more experience than Brodeur. The man has redefined the goalie position and owns every award possible.

Most importantly, his experience is unmatchable. He is 98-78 in career playoffs games with a .920 save percentage and a 1.98 GAA.

He has also won gold before in 2002 from which he proceeded to post a Game 7 shutout to win the Stanley Cup in 2003. So we know he has clutch in his blood.

Also, at the age of 37, this is most likely Brodeur’s last chance to win gold again and that could serve as fantastic motivation.

But let’s not forget Brodeur and Team Canada’s disaster in 2006 in Turin.

On top of that, the Americans are in his head. He allowed some very uncharacteristic goals in that 5-3 loss to the US last Sunday and I’m not so sure he can be trusted in this monumental game.

At this point I’m still leaning toward Luongo, but what about the man behind door No. 3?

Despite proving himself as perhaps the best big game goalie in the NHL, Marc-Andre Fleury has been relegated to the bleachers.

Did everyone forget his clutch performance in Game 7 to win the Stanley Cup last year? With a 31-18 career playoff record, he clearly knows how to win in pressure situations.

Perhaps it is not best to start him in this game, but I really do believe he should at least dress as the backup. I might be the only one, but I’ll take Fleury any day if I had my choice for Sunday. Yes, I'm biased being from Pittsburgh, but I really believe Fleury got the shaft in this Olympics.

Now that I’ve raised the collective blood pressure of the entire country of Canada it’s time for my predictions.

My head says the Canadians storm by the Americans 4-2, but my heart says Team USA pulls out a 3-2 victory.

So, I’m going with my heart. It has certainly steered me wrong plenty of times in the past, but a little sports-induced patriotism never hurt anybody.

Without delving into the overexposed Tiger Woods drama in which I’m personally more shocked that he got caught cheating rather than the fact that he was actually cheating, I have to ask why Gatorade just now decided to drop him?

Lost amidst the probably much more important news of the Olympics, a health care summit and another East Coast snow storm is that Gatorade dropped Tiger Woods from an endorsement deal on Friday afternoon.

But why -- or more importantly -- why now?

Accenture and AT&T were on the ball a long time ago. They didn’t want their brand mixed with the Cheetah so they bolted. Fair enough.

Nike, Tag Heuer and Gillette, well, they still wanted Tiger, but they’ve just made it a little less public. It’s like the girl who will only kiss you with all of the lights off and never tell her friends about it. Then again, Tiger might actually prefer that.

Back to the point, though, what took so long?

If I understand this correctly, Gatorade first denied pulling that awful tasting “Woods” drink off the shelves in November due to his sexual escapades. They claimed it was just a coincidence. Right. Then for the past few months as seemingly every available pancake waitress in the country admitted to having an affair with Tiger, Gatorade was cool with that?

Maybe his public apology just wasn’t sincere enough for Gatorade. Whatever the reason, the timing of this is just weird.