Wage Gap in Soccer: USMNT vs USWNT

Recently a new collective bargaining agreement was struck between U.S. Soccer and the women's national team. Fiscal benefits were increase across the board for the lady futbol players as they saw their salaries, bonuses and benefits all go up by significant numbers. Even though great strides were made in the wage gap between the men and women national players, the fact is that men still make more and have opportunity to make more money than women?

So what does this say about the new CBA? Is it truly a stride in the right direction? Is it a moral victory that was bound to happen eventually? Is the women's national team finally getting recognized for the way they have been competing and representing the country?

The big question becomes should there be an equal pay initiative for U.S. Soccer? Or should it be revenue based? Or should it be based on performance? Let's face it the ladies of U.S. Soccer have been treated poorly, for lack a better term. The conversation has to be centered on what is fair? If we look at success of the two teams the women blow the men out of the water. World Cup titles and Olympic Gold Medals are things that the ladies laud over the head of the men. In fact the men's team often times has struggled to even be competitive.

My opinion U.S. Soccer should be paid more. They earned it! Give the ladies their money. Take the cash from the men's team and tell them they can get paid when they figure out how to win.

EA Sports, is it in the game?

Apparently the gamers are taking the term "pwning noobs" to the next level. Certain universities have begun to hand out athletic scholarships to participants in esports. Think about it, it's the definition of "revenge of the nerds." The kid who was bullied because his paladin or elf character was the highest rated RPG on campus are now snagging up the money promised to the varsity quarterback. The question becomes, should esports fall in to the definition of sport and should these folks be given athletic scholarships?

Let's tackle the question of the validity that esports are indeed sports. Since the dawn of human existence man has longed for a way to escape their realities and be something else. That's where sports were born. So in the definition of an event that allows you to compete against others, sometimes sweat and reign victorious over your inferior peers than yes indeed it should be considered a sport. It's a little, non-traditional, but nonetheless it should fit the basic definition.

As far as scholarships go. I'm a big no. I am biased, I'll fully admit that. I can't see how you can give an athletic scholarship to a cheeto downing, energy drink chugging master of "I'm cooler online." Call me traditional, but I think scholarships belong to athletes. So yes, I'm saying esporters aren't athletes. 

Podcast Topics

MLB Opening Day:

• Pace of Play
• Pitch Timers
• Removal of the "stall" mound visit (coaches/catchers)
• Shorter time between innings
• No more 4 pitch walks
• Replay-Does it hurt or help the game?
• MLB Service Requirements (Kris Bryant)
• World Baseball Classic
• Is it worth it?
• When to play it?
• How to get all the big names there?
• USA, USA!
• Jackie Robinson Day
• Predictions
• Awards
• MVP
• CY Young
• ROY
• Manager
• Comeback Player
• Division Winners
• Playoffs and World Series
• Fact or Fiction
• Trades
• Stats
• Funny things (will Bartolo get more hits, or have his helmet fall of his head more)
• Same face, new place
• Which players will make the biggest impact for their teams
• Which players will be duds
• Madison Bumgartner and "chicks dig the long ball"
• State of Baseball
• How does it match up with other mainstream sports?
• Is the game still "America's pastime"

Monticello Baseball Lives On

Fluid. Graceful. Perfect. As Austin Maloy scooped up the ball and tossed a perfect ball over to first, all of those adjectives could describe that play. The senior shortstop from Monticello High School was born to play the game. He could run, field and hit. He flipped the leather and trotted around the diamond like no other Buckaroo before him. Probably the best player to ever play for Monticello.

Maloy never thought he was the best though and every time someone brought the idea up he shook his head and smiled.

"I'm no Randon," said Maloy, "in fact without him I wouldn't have been anyone.

Maturity and understanding have always been a strength for Maloy. He could see things as they were, and he completely understood how important watching Randon Keyes suffer through his season meant.

"Without that season baseball would've been cancelled," Said Maloy, "I owe my high school baseball career to him."

It was quite the career. Maloy hit over .400 during his time as a Buckaroo and helped the team to three winning seasons. Most importantly Maloy carried on the example set by those who went before him. He played with heart and honor and always made sure he was never bigger than the game.

Maloy became a role model of his own in the rural community. His work ethic, dedication and kindness made him a fan favorite in the little place he called home.

"The kid just gets it," said Maloy's baseball coach Brian Bowring, "he plays like baseball is everything, but knows it isn't."

That sense of how to play the game right was something that Maloy credits to examples like Keyes.

"I saw him play like that. It made me want to play the right way and build something," said Maloy.

He built something alright. Monticello might now be the powerhouse of 2A Utah baseball, but they compete. They've come a long way since Keyes' winless senior season. Because of Keyes' legacy, which was continued by Maloy, the Buckaroos are a competitive program that projects to hang around for a long time.

Mercy Rule: Helping Student Athletes or Teaching them Unrealistic Life Lessons?

When I was a senior in high school my baseball team tried to "reload" for the season after losing 9 seniors. I went to a 1A school in Utah which is the lowest classification school in the state, meaning losing 9 seniors (all who played vital roles on the team) was not an easy problem to overcome. Between the other senior and I we patched together a rag tag team that featured one junior, two sophomores and three freshman. After we recruited a couple of people who got cut from the track team, we rounded out with 11 players for the season. The diamond was not kind to us that season, we were blown out game after game and most of us began looking to a brighter day when the season would be over. Our saving grace to most games was that a mercy rule had been in place. The closest game we had was 7 runs. We didn't mind that the final two innings would happen, because it was 5 (or more) less runs we didn't have to deal with.

My opinion on the mercy rule in high school sports is torn, because I think that it does damper the life lessons that high school athletics teaches. When you are an adult there is no mercy rule in life, however my experience in baseball helped me see another light. We all wanted to play baseball and we worked really hard, we just weren't any good. In high school I would say that the rule has a place. At a time where young minds are being formed, the frustration of failure can have a huge negative impact on student athletes. It also promotes sportsmanship, by not running up the score, which is a huge aspect of high school sports (at least in thought, maybe not deed).

What could SUU do better to make sports better?

The obvious answer is money. More money, less problems. Currently SUU Athletics has the lowest budget in the Big Sky and it's not very close. More money equals better facilities, better marketing, better fan experience and better overall atmosphere. The hard part of that equation is where does it come from? You can't raise the dollar amount on students, they already complain about that fee. You can't really raise ticket prices, because attendance is already an issue when tickets are free or less than 10 dollars. You could go after alumni, but most are willing to unfold their wallets for academic purposes and not necessarily athletic initiatives. So even though money is the obvious answer it isn't the realistic one.

So what could be done? It's all about buy in. How do you get students and the community to buy into SUU athletics. Think about it for a second Eccles Coliseum sits around 7,000 and the Centrum about 5,000. Cedar City's population is just south of 30,000. Meaning you only need 25% of the community to attend a game for it to be a sell out. With support like that, a crowd behind the team (even when they are struggling) it wouldn't matter that we play is average arenas and stadiums or that our weight room isn't the quality of the nation's top programs. We would have unity and with that we would have strength. The environment has to be built. How is that done? The answer isn't easy, or it would already be in place. SUU which is built on community ties has the biggest issues with having that same strong support in the athletic arena. I don't know how that is done, but that's what I would do.

Legends Never Die: Buckaroo Boys Remembered

Legends Never Die: Buckaroo Boys Remembered

In the baseball cult classic The Sandlot, Babe Ruth inspires a young Benny "The Jet" Rodriguez with the saying "legends never die." Those wise words from the fictional Bambino inspired a quick backyard baseball player to accomplish the impossible. Those words, legends never die, also have a way of connecting fans with their sports idols long after they are gone. Even though the world has said goodbye to legends of the past, greatness transcends the grave. Names like Babe Ruth, Wilt Chamberlain and Muhammad Ali with live forever even though their swan song has long since been played.

In the realm of sports, death has a way of immortalizing not just those who were the greatest of all time, but those whom have said goodbye sooner than their there time should've run out. Hallowed names like Dale Earnhardt and Lou Gehrig are cherished because at the top of their prime. Equally remembered will be names like Pat Tillman and Jose Fernandez, who didn't have the careers of some of the greats, but who early death taught fans how precious life is. What they stood for and their potential is as honored and revered as the monster numbers and careers of the hall of famers who are playing in the eternal leagues above.

Death of an athlete might not be felt on a deeper level than small towns. In places where acres of land or numbers of livestock drastically outnumber the citizens of the community, home town heroes from high school teams have as much, if not more fame than some of the biggest names that have ever laced up a pair of cleats or donned a professional uniform. These amateur athletes united small communities and provide a form of entertainment that isn't available anywhere else. Think about it in rural lands where 5 star recruits are never grown, who's retired numbers are hung in solemn reverence in field houses and football fields? More often than not, it's players who didn't go on to be stars at the next level, but students who had big impacts in the classroom and community, then were taken away.

Two such small town studs whose athletic accomplishments were matched by their characters off the courts and playing fields are Kelvin Curtis and Randon Keyes, both graduates of Monticello High School's class of 2008. These names won't find relevance in the Utah High School Athletic Association record books, but for Buckaroo fans of the small Utah town of Monticello Curtis and Keyes are legends who will never die.

Kelvin Curtis was born to wrestle. The youngest of the 5 Curtis boys, he was set up to follow his brothers in dominance of small town wrestling. Curtis instead shocked the world by deciding to make his mark not on the mats, but on the football field and the track circle. He was blessed with lightning speed, unmatched work ethic and the judgement that high school friends called "perfect." He was confident and never cocky. When others lets the emotions of the game take place in their minds, succumbing to trash talk and less than chivalrous behavior, Curtis served as a silent assassin letting his speed do the talking. "He was an example," said Curtis' high school coach John Dowell, "not only as a sportsman, but as a man." When Curtis hung up his football cleats and track spikes he had a football state championship and multiple sprinting state championships. He was a winner as an athlete and as a person.

Randon Keyes never shied away from his opinion, and never left a conversation without anyone involved knowing what that opinion was. Keyes' baseball coach and older brother Josh often said, "he was blessed with the best baseball talent this town had ever seen, and he'll be the first to tell you about that." Though Keyes won a state championship in football and balled out on the hardwood during his Buckaroo career, his heart was always the shape of a diamond. Keyes was the genuine article of "diaper dandy" as he was the first freshman to start anywhere for Monticello in more than a decade. His fiery attitude didn't only add to his feisty fastball, but game him that edge that hall of baseball's great players have to possess to be feared and respected. Though postseason success never was added to his legacy, Keyes will always be remembered as "the natural" in Buckaroo country.

These two boys, tied together by town, school and sports have a unique connection outside of their common alma mater. The two boys in less than a two year span, took their unique talents and characters to the other side when they tragically passed away. In 2015 Keyes was involved in a fatal car accident that would take his life.  A year later Curtis said goodbye to this world after falling during a climbing trip outside of St. George, Utah. Both funerals were attend by the majority of the population of the town. Both names have never been forgotten, by the rural townsfolk of that small southern Utah city.

"Randon did more for this community than hit homers and strike out rivals. He was the lifeblood of baseball and kept the team around when no one else could," said Keyes' high school friend and teammate Kevin Anderson. Following Keyes' junior season the Buckaroos graduated 9 players, which for a school of 120 students was a lot. Keyes was able to gather a rag tag of players that would have mad the Bad New Bears feel confident in their team. As a senior, Keyes led Monticello to 2 total wins and statistically had the worst season of his high school career.

"His senior year was his best," said baseball coach Josh Keyes, "he was the best leader I've ever seen and keeping baseball around that year kept the program funded by the school ensuring future players would get a chance to swing the bat as a Buckaroo." Keyes served as an assistant coach for Monticello after he graduated and coached several local little league teams until he passed. The culture he fostered a renewed love for America's pastime in southeast Utah.

While Kelvin Curtis was running over and past football foes as a freshman and sophomore, some of his upper class teammates were running the patience of the community dry. "It was a tough time to root for the football team," Monticello citizen Jenny Black said, "the juniors and seniors had broken the trust of the community." Drug addiction and poor decisions led to several "stars" of the football team burning the fan bridge in Monticello to the ground. During his junior year Curtis and the football team suffered through the lowest attended season since pigskin was a regular sport at Monticello High.  Curtis led the senior class the next season to new heights not on the field, but in the community. Through his example of leadership, citizenship, service and honor he showed the city of Monticello that good could be found in it's high school athletes.

"For the first time in several years I could take my boy to a football game and when he said he wanted to be like on of the players I didn't have to cringe, Kelvin gave us that back," said Jenny Black. Curtis' example forged a culture that not only desired success at an athlete, but success in every aspect of life. He was a giant on the field, in the classroom and in the community.

There are two headstones in the Monticello Cemetery that stand high, even though both of them are modest in design. Those stones mark the final resting place for two sports legends. Two legends who were apart of something bigger than themselves. Two legends that will never die.

Steroids belong in the Hall of Fame

The argument has been swung to each extreme concerning steroids and the Hall of Fame in Major League Baseball. Both sides, to an extent, have an argument. "Cheaters never win," well they actually win a lot, I would say a more appropriate saying is, "if you ain't cheating you ain't trying." This argument of tarnishing the game by cheating was semi-valid at the beginning, but as it became apparent that a good amount and even a majority of MLB players were juicing versus just a few, the power of that stance dispelled like a the energy from the stadium after a big time home run turn out to be a warning track power hit.

Baseball, though being America's pastime, has been riddled with controversy since it's inception. Racism and intolerable behavior characterized the diamond for hundreds of years before Jackie Robinson broke the color barrier and even then it wasn't a walk in the park for him or any other black baseball player. Look at the Chicago "Black" Sox or Pete Rose to understand that gambling has left it's own sour mark on the game. Or recently stories of drug and alcohol abuse have ruined the reputation of beloved players and even been a knock on the game.

In my opinion to withhold players like Barry Bonds or Roger Clemens because they participated in someone that was considered cheating is a little absurd.  If you're going to hold back baseball's home run and strike out kings then remove the Babe and Ty Cobb who played in an era of inequality. Make sure one of the game's greatest hitters, Mr. Pete Rose stays away from Cooperstown. Be prepared to say no to some of this generations darlings like Alex Rodriguez.

Steroids will be connected with professional sports, especially MLB forever. We need to quit pretending it never happened and realize that it is regrettably a part of the game. Shame on you for watching on the edge of your seat as Mark McGwire and Slammin' Sammy Sosa raced for the home run title or rooting as Bonds smashed ball after ball into McCovey Cove and now in the aftermath stand up and say they were wrong. The steroid era of baseball is just that, an era of the game. It happened and will never go away.

Big Games from T-Birds Seniors not enough against Sac State

CEDAR CITY, Utah - Monster games from seniors Jamie Smith and Jessica Richardson weren't quite enough to lift Southern Utah past Sacramento State on Saturday as the T-Birds fell to the Hornets 110-104 in the Centrum in a matchup between Big Sky women's basketball.

On the night SUU fans bid farewell to Smith and Richardson, the senior duo went out on a high note dropping 30 and 21 points respectively. Slick shooting was Smith's contribution for the T-Birds as her six three-point shots helped SUU keep up with Sacramento States frantic pace.

"That's the kind of game you want your seniors to out on," SUU Head Coach Chris Boettcher said after the game. "Obviously the end result was a little different, but I'm proud of them for stepping up this who week. The last five or six games they have taken the senior leadership role to a new level and I'm really proud of the way they were able to finish here at home."

Though their careers in the Centrum may be over, Richardson and Smith will continue to lead the T-Birds as they prepare the the Big Sky Tournament. SUU will finish off their regular season with road games at Eastern Washington and Idaho before heading to Reno for postseason play.

It was the coolest.......

When I was 11 years old I had the chance to participate in one of the best moments of my life. My dad took me to my very first Utah Jazz basketball game. In my family rooting for the Jazz is a requirement. The only time I remember my dad ever yelling at my sister is when she bought a Peja Stojakovic and announced her allegiance to the Sacramento Kings. The Jazz is part of our family.

Naturally my first game instantly became the best day of my life. I was sporting my black John Stockton jersey and couldn't have been happier. The Jazz were dominating the Milwaukee Bucks for the entire game. Stockton, Karl Malone and the crew were doing their thing in route to another Jazz win. Towards the four quarter a young guard, Ray Allen got hot and starting bringing the Bucks back. As NBA Jam would put it, he was on fire.

I began to be very nervous. The Jazz couldn't lose. That was my first game. They had to win for me. With about 30 seconds left in the game, Allen hit a 3 pointer to tie up the game. Jerry Sloan called a timeout for the Jazz and drew up a play. Everyone and their dog knew it was a Stockton to Malone pick and roll and the Mailman would take the last shot. That was the play. Malone got the ball. He nailed the bucket to put the Jazz up with less than two seconds to play.

The crowd hadn't even fully processed the play when the ball was inbounded to Allen and he hoisted a full-court shot. Allen knew he made the shot and the air was completely sucked from the Delta Center as the "cowhide globe hit home." I stood in shock. My dad was trying to drag me out of the arena in order to beat the rush to get to the hotel. I wouldn't move, drenched in mixed emotions of disappointment and amazement. I saw Allen make 3 after 3 and will full confidence drain a game winner. The coolest thing I've ever seen.

There are few things that bring me joy in the world. Sports is one of them. Probably the greatest is my little sister Jenna. So when the two come together in an epic moment I don't think there is something that pulls on my heart more than that.

Jenna is younger than me and we have always been partners in crime. When I was about 6 or 7 years old I learned that she had something called Downs Syndrome, a genetic disorder that is caused by abnormal cell division. To me Jenna was my sister, but to the world around her she was "special."

Over my life I realized that Jenna was indeed special, but not for the reasons the world thought so. She had an uncanny ability to bring happiness to anyone she came contact with. She loved everyone she ever saw and handed out hugs to anyone who was willing. She also loved me more than I deserved. She was my biggest fan and even though I was jealous of the attention she got, she always stood on the sideline at all the games and cheered for me to win the game.

My senior year of high school I had been battling injuries during the football season and often didn't get to play in a few games. Our team wasn't great and there was a lack of positive feelings around the program. Senior night was looming near and a few days before the game I was cleared to play. In practice we found out that if we won, we were eligible for the playoffs. We practiced hard. We prepared. We wanted to win.

Game day rolled along and it was time for Friday night lights. The first half was very uneventful. Neither team could move the ball and the defenses ruled. Eager to get to the locker room and discuss the second half, I was rudely interrupted by my father, mother and Jenna. It was time for the senior recognition. I begrudgingly joined my family mostly annoyed and ready to get done with this. My dad was on my left and my mom held my right arm, holding back tears. Jenna stood in front of me draped in my away jersey, which fit more like a dress. 

The names of the senior and their folks were announced one by one and it was about time to wave my hand and get back to the business of football. The announcer introduced my father and mother, but he forgot to announce Jenna. I was beside myself and started to wave up to the box. I was ready to run up and share some not so nice words with the man behind the microphone. Just then an announcement no one expected. Jenna was honored as the fan of the year. Coach Hall presented her with a personalized jersey, just her size with her name on the back. He flung off my jersey and handed to my dad, ecstatic to don her own. She smiled so big I'll never forget it and my mom's tears (which were many) were matched by several fans and players. 

At that point I didn't care about the game. I was grateful for the moment. I was grateful for my coach. I was grateful for my family, especially my little sister. It was my favorite sports moment.

Pace of Play: What Does Speed Mean in Baseball?

Our society loves speed. In a world of instant gratification things like fast food, immediate access and high speed internet reign supreme. These one time amenities have morphed into needs, in some cases probably falling into the hierarchy Maslow would describe as basic needs. It's a fast paced life and you better get on the train or you're going to miss out.

The sporting world is no different. In the sports world speed is everything. A high school kid can get a full ride scholarship to any school in America if he run a sub 4.3 forty. In the NBA freakishly athletic and fast guards Russell Westbrook and Isiah Thomas are tearing defenses to shreds. Usain Bolt has defined an era with how quickly he can get from one point to another. In sports, speed is everything.

There in one acceptation to speed is everything, at least in the sporting realm. Speed isn't always everything in baseball. Think about it. Baseball is the only sport where a butter ball can dominate. Babe Ruth wouldn't be a considered a body builder, but the Bronx Bomber is considered to be one of the game's home run kings. The Fielder family was a two generation baseball legacy, but tell me a sport where the porky pair of Prince and Cecil would've have the same impact as they did in MLB? Then there is the ageless wonder Bartolo Colon. This 43 year old "athlete" tips the scales at almost 300 pounds and I doubt could make it to first base by next week, however has been a consistent and at some point fantastic pitcher throughout his career. The point is in baseball speed isn't necessarily everything.

This is the problem the recent "pace-of-play" movement across America's pastime. People who call themselves fans of the game, want to get in and out of the stadium with plenty of time to watch the latest episode of the Bachelor. The have a problem when a pitcher and a base runner are entrenched in a battle for second base and there might be 1, or 2 or 15 pick-off attempts to first. They get frustrated when a batter fouls of pitch after pitch when trying to connect on a nasty slider or knock some high cheese out of the ballpark. They get bored when a manager comes out and makes a pitching change after the reliever he just put in has only through 3 or so pitches and he already has a pitcher in mind for the next batter. It's just not fast enough for those fans.

The real problem that these "fans" have is that they don't understand the sport they claim they enjoy. Baseball has never been built on speed or quickness. The game itself is a grind. There is no time limit to baseball. It's a pure battle of wills that isn't compromised by the stigma of a two minute offense or a shot clock.  Baseball is played in it's own sphere.  Baseball requires resiliency. There are no time outs when a team drops a 9-0 run on you. You get your 3 outs and then try and match or better the effort that your opponent just put up. It's a chess match. It's deliberate. It's baseball. The experience at the ballpark isn't meant to be the same thing you'll find in a football stadium or basketball arena. 

For those of you who might be begging for a pitch clock or some other mystical cure for the slow pace of baseball please remember people like John Kruk, David Wells or even Big Papi. These seemingly irrelevant athletes thrived in a sport not because of their speed, but almost in spite of it. In the wise words of Ferris Bueller, "life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in awhile, you could miss it." The same goes for baseball. If you don't take time to notice the beauty of the game, you might miss the best of it.

Thunderbirds fall to the Grizzles 55-70

CEDAR CITY, Utah - Southern Utah turned in one of their best defensive efforts of the season on Thursday night, but that wasn't quite enough as the Thunderbirds fell to the Montana Grizzles 55-70 in the Centrum Arena.

Employing a new 1-3-1 the Thunderbirds held the Grizzles to 40 percent shooting, including 19 percent from beyond the arc. "Number-wise it was one of our best defensive performances of the year," SUU head coach Todd Simon said about the Thunderbird defense.

Unfortunately for SUU the offense didn't follow suite as the Thunderbirds shot under 40 percent including a woeful 3-21 from three and 50 percent from the free throw line. They were led in scoring by Randy Onwuasor and Will Joyce who put up 16 and 10 points respectively, for the home team.

The bright spot of the game for SUU was the return of senior guard Race Parson, who played in his first game since early December. Parsons, who returned from a serious knee injury logged 16 minutes for SUU, scoring 6 points and 2 assists. Coach Simon was glad to have Parsons back in the line-up, adding a veteran presence to his young team. "I want to give it all to the guys," Parsons said. "I want to play for the team." Parsons performance definitely sparked an energy in the Centrum for both the team and the fans.

SUU will finish up their home stand on Saturday at 2:00 p.m. in the Centrum Arena as they play host to the Montana State Bobcats.

Chino Hills High School knocks off Los Osos High School thanks to 92 points from LaMelo Ball

CHINO HILLS, Calif. - LaMelo Ball drops in 92 points to help Chino Hills defeat Los Osos 146-123 on Tuesday night in a battle of California Interscholastic Federation men's basketball teams.

Chino Hills (26-1) was without leading scorer LiAngelo Ball , LaMelo's older brother, due to injury,  but that didn't phase them too much as the youngest Ball brother did his part to seal the victory scoring 41 of his 92 points in the final quarter.

Los Osos head coach Dave Smith was less than excited by the way Chino Hills played in regards to helping LaMelo Ball score so many points. Smith was upset that style of play Chino Hills employed took away from the team aspect of the game, and took away from what the CIF and high school basketball is about.

Chino Hills head coach had a different take on the game and LaMelo Ball's. "It was very exciting, almost overwhelming," Coach Stephan Gilling said.

Chino Hills finishes up regular season play at Rancho Cucamonga on Thursday.

Cooperstown: Hall of Fame or Hall of Shame

Pudge, Bagwell and Tim Raines are all in the MLB Hall of Fame. Home run king Barry Bonds and strikeout phenomenon Roger Clemens are not, but are making a push to get there. The stain of steroids has blocked two of the game's greatest from being enshrined in Cooperstown, but what has the MLB hall of fame become? Do these two players, riddle in controversy, deserve to be in? Have some of the players that have been voted in, snuck in because of biased voters? Does the Hall of Fame have the same meaning as it did in the past?

If you're not familiar, the panel for judgement on who gets a bust and eternal glory (in the baseball world) is decided by the Baseball Writers Association of America (BBWAA). These reporters, many who have never played the game, vote every year on who they consider worthy to enter the Hall of Fame. To gain entrance a player has to receive 75 percent of the total votes. After 10 years on the ballot if a player hasn't been voted in the scales of justice swing to eternal damnation or never gaining admittance to Cooperstown.

Over the last several years the games greatest names have found their way into Cooperstown. Ken Griffey Jr, Randy Johnson, Greg Maddux and Frank Thomas were all first ballot Hall of Famers while others like Mike Piazza had to wait a couple years. The question becomes, what changes year to year that suddenly makes a player more worthy than the previous vote? Are these voters just casting their opinion on their favorites players and when they don't have any preferred option they are letting the stragglers in?

Look at Tim Raines, one of the most recent inductees. He was elected in his final year of eligibility, but what changed over the last 9 years? He's retired so his HR, RBI and batting averages didn't change. What is going on? The answer is that the voters are simply biased.

Take a look at the Bonds and Clemens argument. Are the cheaters? There aren't many who doubt that, but they should be in the Hall of Fame. Many of the voters despise them for being a part of the steroid era. News flash everyone was on the juice during that time. What makes their actions worse than any other player that stuffed chemicals into their veins because "chicks dig the long ball." I'm not saying that I condone their actions and honestly they both had Hall of Fame talent without the help, but their steroid use wasn't any different than most of the players during that time.

The thing that honestly bugs me is the fact that the writers were completely against Bonds and Clemens during their first year of eligibility, neither received much of the vote. However, each year the voters get a little softer and this last vote both player received over 50 percent. Frank Thomas, the former Chicago White Sox slugger and World Series Champion shares my frustration. Recently he argued that if they are going to let players connected to steroids in, why not allow the best of the best in.

Baseball can't hide from the steroids that contaminated the game during the days of long balls and power pitchers. It will always be a stain on America's pastime, but they shouldn't block the stars that brought notoriety, excitement and not to mention a lot of money to the game. They cheated. They were great. Let them in the Hall of Fame and get over your biased attempts to honor the game.

All Star Games: Showcase of Talent or Fans Voting in Duds?

Every professional sport has an All Star Game that serves several purposes. Often times it a chance to showcase the leagues talent, serve as a break for the athletes during the season or a chance for specific athletes to be label as the best in the business. In one case (though this was recently repealed), the All Star Game in MLB even decided who had home field advantage for the World Series. These games have become a mainstay and a tradition in each of the respective leagues.

In the more recent future fans have had the opportunity to have their say in who participates in these games. Each league is a little different, but fans can cast their votes online or via social media to see their favorite players and team represented in these showcases. The problem arises when fans decide to vote for someone because of blind loyalty or as a joke. Recently in the MLB All Star Games (where starters are selected solely off of fan vote) teams like the Kansas City Royals and Chicago Cubs saw their entire team dominate the votes and hold down positions that frankly all of the players didn't deserve. In the NBA players like Zaza Pachulia led other more deserving players in fan votes due to the copious amount of Warriors fans that have surfaced during their recent success. So the question that arises from all of this is, should fans be able to help decide who plays in these games?

To eliminate fan voting simply due to the fact that they are biased isn't really fair. Coaches, players and sports writers are all biased in their own right. Bias isn't the problem, the problem comes when the fans have such a large say in what happens. In my opinion I like the way that the NBA has adopted a percentage of fan vote, so that it only makes up a portion of the decision. Or as the NBA does have the fans vote in the final player on the roster so fans still have a decision and buy in for the game.

At the end of the day if the fans could get it right, then they should have all the say. However fans are passionate and love their teams which causes them to not think clearly. If there was a way to make fans' vote with their brains and their heart then I say we give the fans the reins.

Oakland to Vegas: The Impact of the Raiders in Sin City

When I was in fourth grade my best friend moved away. I was, for lack of a better term, devastated. This kid and I were partners in crime and had spent almost every recess and every spare afternoon together since we could walk. His departure left a hole in my existence that took many years to overcome.

Recently NFL fans have dealt with or are preparing to deal with similar experiences. St. Louis and San Diego are dealing with the exodus of their NFL teams to Los Angeles and recently the Raiders have filed papers to relocate to Las Vegas. These fans are losing something very dear to them and they in turn will be devastated. What are the impacts that will occur from pigskin making a home in Sin City?

Economically one community will flourish and the other will take a huge hit. Oakland, from my understanding, has never been the most financially stable area. That's why athletes who come from the area are so gritty, because they were made in Oakland. The removal of a professional sports team can and will take a hit on their economical stability, especially with talks about the Oakland A's potentially building a new stadium away from the bay city. Las Vegas on the inverse, would receive an increase in financial growth. The place known as the getaway and an area where the truth doesn't follow you home has another attraction to add to the list that includes casinos, famous shows and fancy clubs. Jobs and work opportunities will grow in Las Vegas and the money will flow once again.

On a more personal note, fans will feel betrayed. Think about it, the Oakland Raiders already had a hiatus in Los Angeles and made their way back. Recent history, minus this past season, hasn't been kind to the silver and black. They have been the definition of mediocrity in the AFC West as every other team has enjoyed playoff success while they suffered losing season after losing season since their appearance in the Super Bowl. Now the boys are back led by Derek Carr and Khalil Mack, but the return to the feared Raiders might occur in Nevada. Hailed by their new, young fans who probably don't know who Tim Brown or Jim Plunkett are.

Overall a move to Las Vegas would be one that I would welcome. I've never been to a NFL game and this would provide an opportunity to not only attend one game, but be a regular in the new black pit. I might even claim the new Las Vegas Raiders as my team. Overall I believe they should stay in Oakland. I believe that certain teams belong where they are. The NFL is better when the Cowboys are in Texas, the Packers are in Green Bay and when the Raiders are in Oakland. Their history is there. The most popular sports game was named after a coach who won the Super Bowl with the Silver and Black. The NFL will never be the biggest show in Vegas and the history of the team will be potentially lost and forgotten. Keep the legacy of the Raiders where it belongs and that is in Oakland.

Do Your Job: A Lesson Learned from High School Football

As a sophomore in high school I got inserted into the starting varsity line up as a Sam (strong side) linebacker. Injuries had taken their toll on the roster and I had the opportunity to make a name for myself. I had the game of my life, racking up 14 tackles (most on the team) and forced and recovered a fumble. Most importantly our team won the game and I had indeed put myself on the map with the coaching staff. 

The next week at school I was showered with compliments about how well I played. I was on top of the world, even the Junior and Senior girls were paying attention to me. During film session, my coaches informed my that once again I would be skipping JV practices and games this week and starting varsity. I was so excited to continue my dominance I couldn't contain myself. 

There was one slight change in my role, I would be switching from Sam linebacker, to Will (weak side) linebacker. Throughout the week of practice a lot of attention was given to me by the defensive coaching staff to ensure I understood my new responsibilities. We were facing off against a team who ran a Wing-T offense and very rarely ran the ball to the weak side. My role had switched from defensive star to containment specialist. Throughout practice I didn't think too much of it, but once game time rolled around I wasn't as excited to be in a new position.

Throughout the first half the ball hadn't been run to the weak side even once. I had no stats and in my mind I had lost the momentum I had gained the week before. Towards the end of the second quarter I started to forsake my containment assignment and started cheating down the line. By the end of the first half I had made 3 tackles. It was a far cry from the 14 tackles from the game before, but I knew that if I kept cheating down the line I could get the stats to be the star again.

During the halftime comments the coach who was in the box called me out in front of the team. "Bailey keep your containment, if you keep cheating we are going to get burned." My containment? The ball hadn't come to my side the entire half what containment was he talking about. He grabbed me again before me ran out and he pleaded with me to stay home.

As the second half kicked off I took the field in my spot on the weak side and continued to contain. The third quarter passed and the score was tight throughout the fourth quarter. The ball had made it's way to the weak side on a counter once in the second half, so my frustration with "containment" continued to grow. In the final two minutes we had a 3 point lead and the opposing team had the ball on fourth down. If we stopped them we would win and I knew that this was my time to make the play I had longed for all night. I knew they were going to run to the strong side and I was going to storm down the line and make the game winning tackle.

I timed the snap perfectly and sure enough the ball was handed off to the running back heading to the strong side. The back was slowed up by his pulling guard and I was in place to be the hero. As I charged up to make the tackle I saw the little used receiver running back towards me. The running back flipped the ball to the receiver on a reverse. Suddenly my stomach sunk. I reached out with one arm in attempt to make the stop, but it was in vain. The receiver scampered 70 yards into the end zone and my team was now losing. 

I laid on the turf not knowing what would happen next. Would my teammates hate me? Would the coaches cut me? What would my dad think? I was helped up and I ran to the sideline with my head hanging. The coach had made his way down from the box. He was waiting for me. He grabbed my face mask, pulled my head up and said, "do your job." He let me go and we cheered on the offense as they attempted to regain the lead. 

Luckily for me the team marched down the field and scored with 20 seconds left. The defense retook the field and I anticipated that I would spend the end of the game on the benched. Coach put his arm around me and repeated his advice, "do your job." The defense held serve and we won the game. I will never forget that game and the lesson that I learned. When you're part of the team don't try and be the hero. Be a part of the team and do your job.

Football: The Game of Life and Death

Football has always been a fixture in my family. I grew up in a very odd relationship with my father. We never saw eye to eye on anything, but we could always talk about football. He played in high school and was an all-state linebacker. I tried to follow in in footsteps and played linebacker at his alma mater. Football connected us, and for a good part of my life that was all we had.

A few years ago, I had a very interesting conversation with my dad. We had been chatting about football (go figure) and he made the comment that I was lucky he didn't know anything about concussions when I was in school or there was no chance I would have ever played football. I was a little floored by this comment, but after I thought about it he had a point.

During my junior and senior seasons (between football, baseball and basketball) I was diagnosed with five concussions. At the time there wasn't as much awareness of the dangers that multiple concussions could render on the brain. In the small school I attended we didn't have a medical staff or athletic trainer so often times a coach would ask me how I was and I would head back into the game. The worst experience came when I was a junior. I was playing fullback and our quarterback tossed an interception. I was able to grab the defender from behind and I was pulling him back in attempt to slow his forward progress. As I was doing this my teammate speared the pile from behind and the defender rolled over my body and bounced my head off of the turf. I was stabilized and carted off the field. After several tests I was diagnosed with a concussion. The doctor didn't give much direction on my pathway back to the football field. I sat out two games and with my father's blessing I returned to play in the playoff game. 

I learned that my dad continually feels guilt now that he knows the danger I was in by playing again. Another serious concussion could have led to lingering issues, paralysis or even death. "Had I known," he said, "you would've never laced up another pair of cleats." It brought on an interesting conversation about my future children. My answer is I don't know. I love the game, I cherish my experience and I continually refer to life lessons I learn from the gridiron. However, what was the cost of these things. I often suffer from severe migraines, irritation to light and insomnia all of which have been attributed to my history of concussions. I've even been diagnosed with three since I graduated from high school. 

In short when my future son asks me if he can play football I don't know what I would say. I would love to do "what's best" for him, but what does that mean? Will the game be as violent and risky by the time that conversation happens? Will rules be established to make things safer? Will medical treatment be available to prevent or treat brain injuries and other injuries? Will my son even want to play? I don't know what the answer would be and maybe I'll be lucky and only have daughters.

My Beat: MLB

One of my favorite pastimes is also happens to be "America's pastime" and for that reason I've decided to write my beat on MLB. I love watching and playing the game, but I'm also fascinated with the issues that happen off the field. The draft, trades, free agency, collective bargaining or anything else that occurs are all aspects of baseball I can't get enough of. I also enjoy learning about players and how they interact with their teams, community and families so I hope to incorporate some of those stories into my blog as well. So take me out to ball game and let's play ball.

James Cowser: The FCS Sack King and a Good Friend

Often times the star of fame can cause individuals to think more of themselves, than maybe they deserve. Athletes, collegiate or professional, are classic examples of how recognition can create a feeling of how athletes are "bigger than the game." As a fan, this can cause some content if you get the chance to meet someone you look up to on the court or field and their character doesn't match their athletic ability.

In a world where it's the norm for athletes to make more noise off the playing surface than on, it's always a treat to come into contact with an athlete who does live up to the expectations of the fans. I have a signed poster of James Cowser. To anyone who isn't familiar with SUU football or an Oakland Raiders fanatic, that name might not mean anything. Those who do know Cowser are associated with the all-time FCS sack and tackles for loss leader, a great student, and a great man. My autographed poster might not be the most desired sports memorabilia, but for me it represents one of my favorite players and a good friend.

For the majority of my life, sports represented something to do or something to watch. Though that is still the case, I've noticed that some of my fondest sports memories are centered around relationships. Whether it's attending a Jazz game with my dad or playing flag football with my closest friends the scores and teams don't matter in the end it's all about the people.

Cowser had no reason to associate with me. He was the best player on the football team destined to break records and play in the NFL and I was a little know sophomore. However, when the little known sophomore approached the big man on campus about joining forces to heckle the opposing team at a SUU basketball game, there was no qualms about it. We started of as a group of heckling fans (later donning the name "Dirty Birds) and overtime became friends. Now Cowser is terrorizing quarterbacks in the NFL, but he stills takes time to talk to the no name friend at SUU.