Forgive me if I haven’t been terribly excited about the Beijing Olympics.  Sorry, but I’m in the middle of following baseball’s pennant races, as well as day-by-day updates from NFL and college football training camps.  That means a hell of lot more to me than beach vollyball and sychronized diving - two events that have led NBC’s primetime coverage of the Games this week.

I understand that the 13 hour time difference between my Midwestern U.S. home and the Olympic grounds has somewhat hamstrung the coverage that NBC can provide; many of the big events so far (swimming and gymnastics, in particular) have aired live around midnight.  But please don’t try to force subpar competitions down my throat.  I guess it makes sense now why NBC aired so many beach volleyball events in recent weeks leading up to the Olympics, apparently an effort to build hype for a second tier sport that it planned to give a big push in Beijing.  Maybe it’s aimed at the superficial male who likes to watch for the barely-there outfits the ladies wear?  But that only accounts for half of the viewing public … and, by the way, I’ve noticed the men’s 2-on-2 is on this evening.  Thanks, but no thanks.

Apparently, though, the simple-minded superficial man does make for a good target audience.  And I suppose I should have picked up on that long ago.  With no validity whatsoever, my father used to always claim that I had a thing for gymnasts.  This probably started in 1988, at which time I was 11 years old.  It has somehow still stuck with me as a 31-year-old man who’s married with children.  So much so that my mother even sent me a text message the other night:

“Dad wants to know if u r watching gymnastics.”

So my wife now watches these events trying to justify the ribbing I receive from my parents, closely studying these dimunitive athletes for attributes that might catch the eye of the superficial male.  She questions me along the way, trying to read me as if we’re all-in in a hand of poker. 

And suddenly everyone is an expert in these events.  It’s like a summer version of the NCAA basketball tournament, when everyone has an opinion on games … only I’m pretty sure there are no bracket contests for the Olympics.  (Then again, most people who take part in office pools come March Madness probably know about as much about Davidson as they do about French swimmer Alain Bernard.)  It’s mind-numbing to hear the water cooler talk about how someone was robbed by the judges in gymastics, as if the systems support team and sales reps around my office have any clue as to the difference between a triple lutz and a triple toe-loop — wait, I guess that’s for the Winter Olympics. 

But you know what I mean.

It’s August.  I’m sticking to baseball.

The performance of my work PC was a little slower than usual today during my lunchtime Internet browsing.  I’m assuming this was due to increased traffic on such websites as SI.com, FoxSports.com and ESPN.com, where all sports fans flocked to learn of Brett Favre’s next move — perhaps his first step, first stretch, first pass or first dump of the 2008 training camp.

In fact, however, my computer was just being slow, stubborn and generally irritating.  Much like this entire Brett Favre saga itself.

There’s been a full range of emotion for this particular football fan (a Bears’ fan, mind you) during this whole ordeal. 

Part I: “It’s about time.”  Thank goodness, he is finally leaving.  Favre had made a habit of torturing the Bears, but leaving after the 2007 season meant he’d lost his final two games against the most bitter of rivals; not to mention the last pass he’d ever throw was a pick that basically lost the NFC Championship game. 

Part II: “For Christ’s sake, I thought you were gone?!”  Rumbles are heard throughout the country that Favre might be interested in coming back.  Let the long tug of war begin.

Part III: “Oh great proud franchise, enjoy your days in the mud.”  The start of the Favre hostage standoff actually made pretty decent theater for this Bears’ fan, as long as I didn’t pay too much attention to the details.  Neither the Packers nor Favre have looked too good as a result of this situation, and that’s just fine with me.

Part IV: “Ok, now it’s time to go away.”  This is where we stand now.  For the love of God, something has to happen quickly, because Brett Favre has ruined the start of training camp for all 32 NFL teams, he’s tainting the playoff hunt in baseball, and the next logical step in this progression is that he’ll be anchoring NBC’s coverage of the Beijing Olympics starting this weekend. 

Christ, as if this guy weren’t overexposed enough while he was playing!  It’s even worse now that he’s not really playing but trying to play somewhere, only no one is really sure where he wants to play, who wants him or where his actual team wants him to end up. 

But it’s good to know that not a stone remains unturned.  There is, of course, the constant FAVRE running on ESPN’s bottom line, reminding us that old #4 himself is as large as any one sport these days.  And our friends in Bristol have it covered from every angle.  I noticed during one of the FAVRE scrolls the other day that there were three separate angles to the story, each of which was reported by a different ESPN staff member:  Ed Werder reported one, Chris Mortensen had one, and Wendi Nix had the other.  Good job spreading around the plugs.  If there’s one thing The Network is consistent about, it’s making sure that every worthless piece of information that hasn’t been confirmed by an identifiable source is credited to one of ESPN’s worthless reporters. 

And, for what it’s worth, my sources are telling me that this story — and the coverage of it — sucks.

The hostage standoff between Brett Favre, the Green Bay Packers and the media has been bad enough, but directly dragging my team into this dirty song-and-dance is where I have to draw the line.

Sure, there have been plenty of “What If” columns and posts that have discussed whether or not Favre would be welcomed by an NFC North rival, including the Chicago Bears.  But the fact that this allegedly became a true possibility earlier this week has caused me to break my prolonged silence on the matter.

Seriously, it’s been bad enough having to accept Jim Edmonds as a member of the Chicago Cubs.

No GM or Coach in his right mind is really going to alienate a quarterback currently under contract by saying Favre would be a great addition to the team, but the fact that the entire Bears organization quickly dismissed the possibility of bringing Favre to Chicago was music to my ears.  It wasn’t quite like Lovie Smith’s oft-repeated company line of “Rex Grossman is our quarterback” which we heard countless times late in the 2006 season and into the early part of last year, but the reassurance that either Grossman or the neck-bearded wonder, Kyle Orton, will be the Bears’ #1 this fall has never sounded better to me. 

A friend asked me if I seriously wouldn’t want Favre on my team of choice.  My answer?  I’d root for him to get hurt on every snap … but not turn the ball over on the play.

So happy retirement to you, my friend.  May you either peacefully enjoy life away from football … or come back and fail.  Just don’t dare think of joining my team.

It’s around this time every year when I realize just how much I’ve grown to dislike ESPN.  And that’s pretty sad, considering we’re talking about the network that pioneered around-the-clock sports coverage.

For the last week, ESPN has spent a great deal of effort covering its most obvious self-congratulatory programming:  The ESPYs.  It’s really perfect in theory; create your own awards exhibition, name it after yourself, air it exclusively, then hope everyone else talks about it … giving you publicity with each mention. 

Too bad it sucks.

Just like Ryan Seacrest being chosen to host a Super Bowl red carpet show, having Justin Timberlake emcee a sports awards bash simply isn’t appealing to the average fan - at least I hope not.  Proof that meanstream sports are trying to expand their appeal?  Nah, I’m sure it’s just the ESPN brass thinking they’re cool. 

And nothing that’s voted on entirely by fans should be assigned any true credibility anyway.  Just consider baseball’s All-Star voting.  I’ve lived through far too many Ozzie Smith (career average: .262) starts at shortstop for that to mean anything.  

Sadly, ESPN has become much too similar to MTV.  Each started as a great concept but has failed to maintain its own momentum.  Each has also proven greedy enough to create its own awards show.  MTV throws at least two annual awards bashes that I can remember, the MTV Video Music Awards and the MTV Movie Awards.  And each is nauseatingly re-run until there’s no way possible that every teen in America hasn’t seen at least part of it.

MTV eventually fell victim to its own celebrity.  It was apparently too cool and too socially relevant to maintain the status quo, brazenly choosing to turn Music Television into what quickly became an uneven mix of music and reality TV.  So MTV is now defined by the so-called Real World and Laguna Beach, with people like “Puck” and “LC” taking the place of Run DMC and Kurt Cobain.  Interesting concept.

ESPN’s evolution has appropriately included a broadening of its programming as well, but it hasn’t strayed quite as far.  In fact, you’re still quite likely to catch something like Sportscenter, Baseball Tonight or NFL Live throughout any particular time of the day.  Still, it’s the polarizing personalities and the collective ego of those four letters that have slowly driven me and many other sports fans away.   The morning and afternoon hours are passed with the likes of Skip Bayless, Woody Paige and Jay Mariotti shouting at the television.  That can’t really attract any viewers, can it?

The parent company isn’t helping matters either, as ABC Sports apparently doesn’t exist any longer since all events on ABC are branded as ESPN.  And it doesn’t stop there.  I caught Mike Greenberg - whose radio show airs on TV - on an awful ABC gameshow the other day while flipping through the dial.  And my stepson’s attraction to the even-worse ABC show Wipeout prompted me to notice another Sportscenter anchor, John Anderson, making a splash into network primetime television.  It is truly sad.

So what’s next?  I don’t know.  We already have three-hour Home Run Derbys, a bottom line ticker that now lists FAVRE and CLEMENS as if they, themselves, are sports; and, holy crap, Rick Reilly is on TV.   

Thank God for the Internet.

So, after six weeks that included traveling twice for business and once for leisure, I am back. 

Blogging ideas popped into my head countless times while I was away, never more than during my overnight drives between Kansas City and Chicago.  How exciting is the state of Iowa?  During the day, you may only see the endless crop fields; but at night all you see is roadkill.  Large roadkill.  With the cruise control set at 73, all I did was scan the road back and forth, just waiting for a living thing to dart into my path.  I think I wrote an entire blog entry in my head entitled Fear Crossing. 

I also wondered if readers would be interested in what it was like to drive through Moscow (Moscow, Iowa, that is).  But I knew better than to look for an Ebbets Field memorial in Brooklyn, Illinois.  Still, these were thoughts with which I had to amuse myself over the course of my late night/early morning travels.

And I’m clearly not built for business travel.   Whoever came up with the “High Endurance Challenge” had no idea what they were up against.  For all that’s said about Southwest Airlines, like the ease of unassigned seating (yeah, right) and the fun personalities of the flight attendants (fun=annoying), my airline experiences have been far from stress-free.  None of the six flights I’ve taken recently have been longer than 75 minutes from gate to gate, yet each ended with me feeling as if I’d just hopped off a treadmill.  Seriously, I’m about 5′7″ and 160 pounds, and those seats are tight for me.  How might they feel for someone of more generous proportions?

I’ve come to the conclusion that traveling just isn’t for me.

Which brings me back home, where I have once again comfortably settled.  And, appropriately, I’ve found that my favorite sports website is playing the Where Are They Now? game.

I’m going to go out on a limb and say that the most popular of SI’s flashback features is on former ladies tennis star Anna Kournikova.  And, yes, I will call her a former star.  It’s included almost as a footnote, but most people forget that Kournikova was in the top ten, and she was one of the best doubles players on tour.  What they do remember is that she never won a singles tournament.  The problem, if you care to classify it as such, is that she was so damn popular for reasons other than tennis prowess.  I’m sure women across the world — and across the WTA — are crying for her.

People are also quick to forget that it was injuries that ultimately derailed Kournikova’s tennis career, and that it was she who paved the way for the current Russian contingent in the ladies tennis ranks.

In an unrelated Where Are They Now? moment, the same day I read the Kournikova piece I also noticed this item from Luke Winn.  Most basketball fans know of Shawn Kemp’s off-court prowess, which is wholely different than that of Kournikova.  Kemp was hardly the modern day Wilt Chamberlain when it came to the ladies, but he did seem to put forth effort with fairly reckless abandon.  

This one’s a toss-up.  You want to pull for the son of Shawn Kemp, born into an unfortunate situation, with half-brothers and half-sisters reaching out to him from all corners of the U.S.  But you also want to say, “Damn you for being born with the physical gifts of the Reign Man!”  At least the elder Kemp appears to care these days.

And at least I’m back to make some cracks about these kinds of things.

You never really know what to expect during a general election year, so maybe I shouldn’t be surprised by anything.  But I don’t expect to see an eight-year-old sporting political gear.

That’s exactly what I saw today at my stepson’s baseball practice.  I stopped short of asking young Harrison why, in fact, he’s an Obama supporter, but he clearly is.  Harrison was sporting the official “Obama ‘08″  campaign t-shirt while manning first base for much of practice.  It took a lot of mental strength to keep me from asking if he understood the significance of his attire.  And I had follow-up questions too.

“What do you think of Senator Obama’s health care plan?”

“How quickly would you like to see troops withdrawn from Iraq?”

“Are you familiar with Jeremiah Wright?”

“Which phrase do you prefer?  God Bless America or God Damn America?”

Now Harrison is big for his age, so he could probably easily be mistaken for a 10-year-old.  But that’s still almost a decade shy of making it to the voting booth.  Kudos to the kid for getting educated early.

I’d still recommend he focus his energy on groundballs, Fruit Loops and Nickelodeon.

So Chicago Bulls boss Jerry Reinsdorf feels misled by Mike D’Antoni, the coach he let slip away to New York.  

Misled.  That seems pretty appropriate for the Bulls, a team for which I once had a much stronger sense of loyalty.  The term I’ve used most often over the past two seasons has been “directionless.”  I guess my thought was that they were being led nowhere, which tends to have a similar effect to being led in the wrong direction.      

The non-hire of Mike D’Antoni is just another blunder in recent Bulls history, as the franchise has worked quickly to derail the upward momentum it seemed to be riding just three years ago.   The Bulls won 47 games in 2005, earning the Eastern Conference’s #4 seed in the playoffs.  Though they were ousted in the first round by Washington, the future appeared bright.  The Bulls’ three best players - Ben Gordon, Kirk Hinrich and Luol Deng - had a combined four years of service in the league.

But the Bulls didn’t have a draft pick in 2005, and after finishing an even .500 the following year, the team’s one glaring weakness was obvious:  The need for an interior scorer to complement the talented young group that had been built in the backcourt and on the wing. 

So what did GM John Paxson decide to do with the #2 overall pick in the ‘06 draft?  Yes, he drafted a big man, LaMarcus Aldridge of Texas.  Aldridge is long and skilled, and in two years of college ball showed he could play with his back to the basket and face up against his defender.  Perfect … except the Bulls never intended to keep him.  Instead, they traded their newest piece of the puzzle to Portland for LSU’s Tyrus Thomas, a one-year collegian who was a clearly more of a project. 

Paxson and crew also dipped into the free agent pool for all of the wrong reasons during that off-season, paying big money for a big man whose game was strictly limited to defense and rebounding - Ben Wallace.  Definitely a great asset on the interior, but his acquisition showcased further ignorance toward what the team truly needed.  Still, the Bulls were good enough last year to win nearly 50 games and advance past the first round of the playoffs.  And, again, a previous deal left them with a lottery pick in the draft and a chance to address their true need.  The solution:  Joakim Noah, another non-traditional big man.  Though Noah doesn’t have the athleticism as Thomas, his game is similar.  They’re both energy players who don’t project as legitimate post scoring threats over the course of the careers.  Frankly, they each look more like a sixth man to me.  Oh, and they’ve both proven to have attitude problems.

So, despite the mediocrity of the Eastern Conference again this season, I wasn’t too surprised to have watched the Bulls crash and burn.  They targeted Pau Gasol via trade for two years but failed to put together a reasonable package for him.  Ditto for Kevin Garnett, who everyone knew was available this past off-season.  But they didn’t need to craft a great deal for Aldridge; all they had to do was draft him and keep him.  The Portland big man finished his sophomore NBA season with averages of just under 18 points and 8 boards per game.  How would that have that have looked in Chicago this year?  (By the way, Thomas averaged about seven points and five boards in ‘07-08.)

Having Aldridge on the roster would have justified the Ben Wallace signing, giving you the defense and rebounding machine to go alongside a true post player.  How about a lineup of Hinrich, Gordon, Deng, Aldridge and Wallace?  No way that team would have missed the playoffs.

Mike D’Antoni may not have been the answer for the Bulls, but he was the obvious choice among available candidates.  Reinsdorf says it seemed clear that Chicago was D’Antoni’s preferred fit, and there was no rush to get an offer to him before last weekend.  That’s how he was misled. 

Well, maybe you should take priority in grabbing what you want, Jerry.  If you find the guy you want, take him.  Just don’t trade him before giving him a chance.

So it’s Saturday night, and guess what I’m looking forward to? 

Watching one of my favorite television shows in a first-run episode.  No, my taste for television isn’t so bad that I’m reliant upon Saturday night programming (is there anything original on Saturdays anyway?).  And, no, I’m not digging back into my DVR to catch up from earlier in the week.

I’m watching Lost, which is being aired on my local ABC affiliate tonight at 10:35 … and I’ll get to watch it with sidebars on the screen rather than in full HD!

Those who don’t reside in my part of the country - but do pay attention to the national news - probably know that the Midwest was peppered with some pretty solid spring storms late in the work week.  Straight-line winds, a few minor tornadoes briefly touched down, and there was some damage that appeared rather compelling.  So it seems logical that most of our Thursday night was dominated by local meterologists on our televisions.  But, as you may have guessed, I have several problems with this. 

First of all, I have HDTV, which means I have two of every local channel.  Why do both frequencies have to be ruined by weather coverage?  What I’m looking for with my HD feed is a message in the corner that reads something along the lines of,  ”For severe weather info, please tune to analog channel.”   

Too much to ask?  Consider this: Two of our local channels also have a 24-hour weather channel on our digital tier.  Why not steer viewers to those otherwise useless spots on the dial?  These also just so happen to be the ABC and NBC affiliates, which were the ones I needed Thursday to watch Lost and The Office. 

Point #3:  Three of the four local KC stations own “sister channels” within the market, Fox being the only one which doesn’t.  ABC owns the channel that doubles as our CW affiliate, while NBC and CBS run UHF frequencies that seem to only exist to air poor local programming and reruns of South Park and King of Queens.  What I’m trying to say is that, as a digital cable/HD customer, I had 16 local channels that broadcast pretty much nothing but weather coverage Thursday night. 

Is it important to cover severe weather?  Absolutely.  Don’t think I don’t understand that.  But, like the storm cells that approach, things aren’t always terribly organized.  Maybe the forced transition to digital television in 2009 will help me cause.

*****

A little salt for my wound:  The local NBC affiliate has announced that ER will re-air this weekend, but the rest of its usual Thursday night lineup will not.  I bet I can watch The Office online at NBC.com, but forgive me for not getting too excited.  I bought a large HD television for a reason, and I’d prefer not to watch one of my favorite shows on my 17″ computer screen.

And who watches ER these days anyway?  I saw the promo for this week:  “The ER held hostage!”  How many times have they gone to that well?

How about for next week a crazy storm wreaks havoc on the ER?  Oh, they’ve probably already done that before too.

Fox Sports sucks.

I hate to beat the same drum repeatedly, but it’s hard not to do so when I’m constantly reminded of this fact.  And it didn’t take too long today.

My remote clicked me over to the local Fox affiliate at 2:44 so I’d be just in time for the first pitch of the Cubs-Cards game.  I figured that would save me from the pregame bumblings.  Still, I wasn’t saved entirely.  The exact moment I tuned in, I saw the Cubs starting lineup being introduced to viewers.  And it wasn’t just introduced.  It was recited by Cubs pitcher (and prankster) Ryan Dempster who was full into his Harry Caray impersonation.  Seriously, aren’t we long past the days of Harry Caray impressionism? 

Dempster is largely at fault for volunteering such services, but forgive me for assuming some hack from Fox didn’t suggest it.  At the very least, the network accepted it with arms wide open.  I think Joe Buck peed his pants, quickly commenting that tape of Dempster’s high comedy should immediately be sent to the broadcasters’ wing of the Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown.  So this is how low we have sunk these days?  What compelling television.

Of course, several times during the game I was also reminded of how bad Ken Rosenthal is as a sideline reporter.  Stiffs like Rosenthal are writers for a reason:  They write well.  They don’t broadcast well.  And Buck tried his best to throw in a couple of his lame one-liners as if he were trying out his new stand-up routine.

But, hey, the Cubs beat Buck and McCarver’s favorite team.  The day was a success in that sense, and even Fox couldn’t spoil it. 

We’re not exactly in the summer movie season yet, but I feel like it’s already started.  Now that the weather is warming up, so too are our selections at the cinema. 

Now that I’m married with children, I can legitimately only expect to get out to the theater a couple of times a year, and I’m glad one of those occasions was spent Sunday afternoon watching Forgetting Sarah Marshall.  It’s a great film in the mold of the other Judd Apatow-produced comedies, such as Knocked Up, Superbad and The 40-Year-Old Virgin.  Translation:  There are some great laugh-out-loud moments and, of course, some incredibly crass humor. 

And now I look forward to a very promising slate of summer/late spring films due to hit the big screen in the coming months.  In many ways, I’m acting like Bizarro Steve (that’s me).  I’m not usually into the “summer movie season,” as it too often delivers overboard action flicks that seem to cater to the short-attention-span viewer.  But I’m on board this year.  Here are the top five I’m most looking forward to (in order of release):       

Speed Racer (May 9).  I expect nothing less than a visually stunning thrill ride as the Wachowski brothers put their Matrix-like spin to work on cult anime. Sounds like a dangerous combination, and one that should create quite a movie-going experience. I’m guessing this is one of those films that will be ten times better at the theater than in your living room.

The Incredible Hulk (June 13).  This one’s a little bittersweet. I’ve always been a big fan of the Hulk, and I was one of the few who really enjoyed Ang Lee’s recent adaptation of the not-so-jolly green giant. The story was long on drama rather than action, but Lee’s unique direction effectively cast the mood. Remember, being the Hulk isn’t exactly a glamorous life. But is there any role Ed Norton can’t play? I’m sure he’ll do justice to this one, too.

Wanted (June 27).  James McAvoy goes straight from period romance (Atonement) to an elite assassins club. It’s a premise that seems to start like the Matrix, with a cube-dwelling lead character who has no idea that his life is destined for a greater and much more exciting purpose. That apparent purpose is joining Angelina Jolie and others who possess uncommon agility and skill as they fatally stalk those deserving of a dark fate. One of my favorite actors of all time, Morgan Freeman, is the leader of the deadly fraternity.

Hancock (July 2).  Will Smith is back to being the king of summer blockbusters in this story of a reluctant superhero. The trailer shows that his apathetic rescues often cause as much destruction as relief. I’m guessing the dry humor of Jason Bateman in a supporting role will also be pretty tough to beat.

The Dark Knight (July 18).  The great and dark city of Gotham returns to the big screen, and it almost gives me a chill to see the trailer.  Christopher Nolan’s new Batman franchise got off to a great start earlier in the decade, and it’s hard for me to believe his next chapter would disappoint.  The Heath Ledger factor adds even more buzz, with his final appearance coming in the form of one of the greatest superhero villains of all time.  I can’t wait.

Bonus:  Pineapple Express (August 8).  Count me in for another Judd Apatow comedy, this one starring Seth Rogan and James Franco as stoners on the run from dirty cops.  I’m not into substance abuse, so I certainly hope this doesn’t turn into Half Baked 2; but based on the reputation of this crew, we should be in pretty good hands.

Yes, I know, I just contradicted the hell out myself because I said earlier that I’m not into the big action flicks and then went on to talk about five big action flicks.  But I told you, I guess I’m going to be Bizarro Steve this summer.  (And it helps that I’m a sucker for superheroes and comic book adaptations). 

I don’t for a minute think there’s a way I’ll get out to see six movies over the course of four months, but it’s good to know that I’ll at least have motivation.  God knows there’s always some crap out there too.   More on those later …