Sunday Sermon: That Loser Mentality

How many times have we read, said, or heard a great saying that accurately summarizes the massive effect that the wide world of sports has on many people’s lives? Today I write with a heavy heart, still reeling from the pain of K.U.’s loss to the University of Northern Iowa, a game that was in fact, nothing less than a stunner. It is not a matter of opinion: Kansas Men’s Basketball is a great program. You may choose not to root for them. You may choose to select a different adjective in describing the team. You may even hate them, but it is literally impossible, barring your ability to largely disillusion yourself, to say with an honest tongue that the achievements of Kansas basketball have been anything shy of tremendous.

Heading into yesterday’s game was perhaps an insurmountable pressure for the nation’s number-one team. The game started off similar to the one the Jayhawks had just won, in that they trailed early to LeHigh, and again to U.N.I. Only their deficit to Northern Iowa was one in which they could not overcome. I don’t mean to chalk the loss up to pressure, and I stoutly refuse to lend an ear to any complaints regarding officiating. The simple truth is that this Jayhawks team was outplayed. Anyone who doesn’t want to give it up to that Cedar Falls club is in outright denial. It was a high-energy game, one in which the Panthers led for all but a handful of seconds. Kansas made a respectable run with less than three minutes to play, but it was, as the saying goes, too little too late. Northern Iowa was destined to advance, leaving the Jayhawks maimed and teary-eyed in their locker room.

My point in writing today, though, is not to carry us through the sufferings of Kansas players, coaches, and fans, but rather to talk about what the loss means to those who are not fans.

It is difficult, in words, to express exactly how frustrating it has been, even before the game was over, to witness the sheer joy and celebration that friends, fans of other Big XII programs shared when it became all but certain that the crimson and blue would be going home. I’ve used this term on numerous occasions in recent weeks, and I hate to overdo it, but I’ll take that risk and say that the rooting against Kansas, the admitted hatred of the school/hoops program, cannot be classified by any other words than these: loser mentality.
That’s correct and intended, and for purposes of clarity, I’ll say it again: loser mentality.

Before I elaborate, and before offense and insult sets in, there is one thing to understand, and that is this: I am an expert in loser mentality. No. I don’t have a license for it in my wallet, and there is no framed degree stating such on my office wall. My word will just have to be taken on this matter. I have been a loser, and in some regard, I still am. More on that in a minute, but first some background to illustrate that to which I refer.

Be it via conversation, text messages, Tweets, or Facebook status updates, here are a few of the gems – mostly from Missouri fans, but the K-Staters have chimed in as well -- I’ve heard in recent weeks:

“I could never, under any circumstance, bring myself to root for K.U.”

“Even if K.U. was playing the team that beat M.U. in the national championship in the previous season, I’d still pull for the team that beat M.U.”

“Learning to hate K.U. is my second sports memory ever. The first was celebrating the Royals World Series win; the second was my dad telling me, after reading the paper the day after the Jayhawks won the ’88 title game, 'No, son: It is not great that they won. We hate K.U.'”

As the final minutes ticked away in yesterday’s game, here were a few:

“Don’t blow this, Northern Iowa.”

“THIS IS EPIC!”

“Can’t wait to buy my Northern Iowa shirt; it’ll go great with my Bucknell and Bradley tees.”

And of course there are the token folks that think they’ve invented something clever when they say “Gayhawk” or “Rock Choke.”

And it’d be silly of me to leave out the shiny new Facebook group entitled “Remember KU choked in the 2010 NCAA Tournament? That was AWESOME.” For the record, we’re not 24 hours removed from yesterday’s tipoff and that group almost has 13,000 members.

Anyway, back to how I’m a loser.

I’ve been watching professional football for 30 years now, and I’ve been watching it legitimately, consistently for 24. For most of that first decade, my Kansas City Chiefs were terrible. And trust me when I say that “terrible” is an understatement. It wasn’t until the beginning of the Carl Peterson/Marty Schottenheimer regime in 1989 that the Chiefs were even worth mentioning on a national level. And as many are aware, the Chiefs had a quote/unquote deal with NFL Films to not tape/broadcast any deep passes thrown at Arrowhead, so as not to reveal the tens of thousands of empty seats. But this general manager/coach duo turned things around for the franchise, restored things to the winning ways that had long evaded Chiefs teams since the early ‘70s.

In case you don’t want to do the math, that’s a long damn time to be a horrid sports club.

Somewhere in the middle of that stretch of putridity, a couple of Kansas City’s rivals were having success. The Denver Broncos went to a Super Bowl in the late ‘70s, the Oakland/L.A. Raiders won one or two, and hell, even the Seattle Seahawks and San Diego Chargers had their moments. For a spell, the Raiders owned the Chiefs, and for most of the ‘80s, and chunks of the ‘90s, the Broncos did, too. Football fans all know that in the last 10 years, the Raiders have been a pretty terrible team. They did go to a Super Bowl in 2002, but they’ve been terrible ever since.

Denver, on the other hand has, as one of my colleagues puts it, has “sustained excellence” over time. Very seldom do they finish below .500, and they’ve been to six championships now and even won a pair.

I’ll pause for a minute to say this: There is a massive generational aspect to consider in sports fandom. That is, if your folks are fans of the Kansas State Wildcats, then you probably are, too. Unless you hate your parents, I guess. The point, though, is that people have children, and ties to teams tend to be passed on almost as if they were their own unique sector of the gene pool. I have an uncle who’s an M.U. fan. He hates K.U. None of his three kids went to M.U., and neither of them is really into sports at all, but I can guarantee you that if asked, they’d confess their hatred of the Jayhawks as well.

Where my loser status comes in is here: The Denver Broncos have been, are, and probably always will be my football nemesis. They were good in the ‘80s when my team was terrible. They were great in the ‘90s when my team was good, and they’ve always been a proverbial force to be reckoned with in the 2000s. En route to their first Super Bowl win, they came in to Kansas City as a wildcard and knocked off the Chiefs, who’d gone 13-3 with a first-round playoff bye. Since then, they are either in the playoffs almost every year or at least on the season-ending bubble of post-season contention. They’ve been to a conference championship game in the last five years, and their fan base, by way of some good San Diego teams and some awful Chiefs teams have begun to collectively overlook my Kansas City team.

Suffice it to say, I hate the Denver Broncos. While they’ve toyed with post-season hopes in each of the last three campaigns, my Chiefs have won a total of 10 games. Ten. Games. Here’s one spin on that: That’s a 21 percent winning percentage. The real spin, however, is this: That’s a 79 percent losing percentage. When your losing percentage is flirting with an 80 percent, you are nothing shy of a massive loser. I top that by tuning in to every Broncos game and rooting for whoever they’re playing. If the Chiefs lose, by sullenness is somewhat balanced by a Denver loss. If the Denver game isn’t on television, I’m pissed. And believe me when I say that there have been many Sundays where I question which team is getting more of my energy. That makes me a mega-loser.

But you know what? I’m okay with that. The National Football League is highly respected for having a balance among teams and across all 32 franchises. It’s the league in which anyone can make a quick turnaround. It has a salary cap. It offers the opportunity to be competitive, do your job well, and have success. If you don’t, you won’t.

This is not the case in Major League Baseball. The league has tried via luxury sharing, and some teams have had success even though their payrolls are remarkably small in comparison to some of the baseball giants. This is not the case in NCAA basketball, either. I’ve tried to illustrate this contrast with friends whom are fans of Kansas State and Missouri, and since I’ve been riding the cliché train this entire post, I’m sad to say that the comparison has done absolutely nothing but fall on deaf ears. In an area like Kansas City, most of us as sports fans band together in our passions for the Chiefs and the Royals. When it comes to college sports, however, we fragment faster than a firework in the July fourth sky.

In baseball, we have no allegiance to the Clevelands, the Chicagos, the Minnesotas, and the Detroits, although some of us might jump on the bandwagon come October. In football, we have no need to pull for the Denvers, the Oaklands, the San Diegos, and I doubt any of us change our tunes in January. In the college basketball regular season, we don’t like each other, and that’s how it should be. If K.U.’s playing M.U., you’d better believe I hate me some Tigers. Same goes for K-State. Do I wish global misery upon their programs? No. I want them all to be successful. I want the competition to be tight, and most of all, I want the Big XII to get its due respect.

In college football, the folks in Bristol laud the SEC, and the Big XII is an afterthought. In hoops season, the Big East gets a lot of attention, and the Big XII gets an occasional nod. But us Big XIIers need to band together once the conference tournaments are over. We need Selection Sunday to be a bridge point. If we face one another in March, it’s on like Donkey Kong. Until that moment, however, we should be pulling for one another. That doesn’t mean bellied up at the bar wearing your gold if you’re a K-Stater. It doesn’t mean actively cheering for K.U., M.U. fans. It just means not rooting against them, not erupting in glory when a foe falls and fails.

If you don’t get it now, you probably never will. I’ve been stoked for all seven of the Big XII teams since tournament play started five days ago. Some have fallen, and since I started typing this, the Tigers have been toppled by the West Virginia Mountaineers. You think I was pulling for W.V.? Absolutely not. I wanted M.U. to advance. I was stoked for them last year when they made it deeper into the tournament than they ever had. I have mad respect for Frank Martin and the Kansas State program. I was pulling for them against North Texas, and B.Y.U., and I hope they’re successful against their next foe, too.

And let’s not forget Texas A&M and Baylor, who are also still alive and very much in this thing.

In the end, the point is two-tiered: I’ve never been an M.U. fan, or a K-State fan, so I’ve not experienced the frustrations that the Kansas Jayhawks have existed as over the years, but I pull for my fellow Big XII teams when it comes to March Madness matchups that don’t pit the teams against one another. And I can say that, having experienced (and still experiencing) the loser mentality that I aim to counter. The other factor is the representation that our conference needs. I see folks posting polls and studies and stories all of the time about this region of the country. What percentage of rednecks lives here? Where do we stack up in the quote/unquote best/worst cities in which to live? Are we the fattest city? And there’s the argument on how Kansas City will always be a two-sport town, that we could never support an NBA or NHL franchise.

The take on all of those angles is negative. What we need is a positive spin and we can gain that in the tiny world of our college basketball brackets. We should stand together. Will I be genuinely happy if K-State or M.U. wins a national title? For the simple fact that that means Kansas won’t have won one, no, I won’t. But will I pull for the Tigers or the ‘Cats, or any other Big XII team when they face non-conference opponents? You won’t hear my hollers at the bar, or see my fist pumps on the couch, but I’m rooting for them. You bet I am. I’m always looking to shed a few layers of loser. So let’s go, Baylor. Let’s go, State. Get out there and win.
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Getting To Know Your 2010 U.S. Men's Olympic Hockey Team: David Backes

Let's keep this short and sweet: In 19 days, men's olympic hockey will get underway. You should be both familiar with the men on the roster that will represent your country, and fired up -- even though you hate hockey -- for these games. That's where I come in.

David Backes is a 25-year-old native Minnesotan who currently collects a paycheck playing forward for the St. Louis Blues. He's a right-handed shooter who's lit the lamp 10 times this season, and added 18 helpers for his 28 points. He's logged over 4000 minutes of NHL ice time, and spent 165 minutes in the sin bin last year. His high school honored him by retiring his jersey number Johnny five, and he spent his collegiate years skating for the Minnesota State University Stompers. Also, his wife is pretty hot.

See? That was pretty painless. We'll do about 22 more of these. Stick around.
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Tradition Tuesday: Gettin' Back to Our Roots

Now then. I reckon that, right around this time each week we're mumbling on about traditions and rough focuses with regard to our favorite football teams. Like most sports bloggers, we go to extensive ends to remind our readers that we are massive homers, heavy drinkers, and not afraid to take pot shots at the wives. Today, if only for a moment, I'm going to abandon that notion. You see, I'm 100 percent sober at the moment. The wife's presently on a mad streak of pleasantness (Editor's Note: Sweet Jesus in Heaven -- show me the way to bottle this concoction.) and well, we're not scoopmasters all that often, though we do have our moments. This naturally leaves me with the lone choice of breaking down the Chiefs and the Broncos with the old-fashioned fuel known as passion. Now it might take me a moment to get the spark, air, and gas to combust, but once I do, hold on to your wood screws hats, 'cause I'm'a blow your doors off.

You know, now that I think about it, I spent most of my day in various elementary schools. I saw everything from identifying nouns versus verbs to simple subtraction problems to pattern-description exercises to drawing pictures of pigs and chickens. So what better way to break it on down than with everyone's favorite tool: the alphabet. Oh yeah. Believe it.

A) is for animosity, boys and girls. Animosity is like a feeling of ill will or hostitlity. And ill will is something Broncos fans feel for Chiefs fans and vice versa. The sad thing is is that from this side of the Missouri River, it's hard to envision just what it is that makes Denver fans feel hostile towards Kansas City fans. From behind the red-and-gold glasses, the orange-and-blue franchise participated in shenanigans to get ol' Horse-Faced Colts Draft, and for most of his career (some 15-16 years), Elway and the Broncos dominated the Chiefs in the sense that they had more playoff appearances, one or two more Super Bowl wins, and a heckuva ride in which to cap the whole thing off. The only thing KC accomplished during this era was to get nearly all of the home wins against (Note: But certainly not the big one.) the Broncos, and an occasional victory at Mile High. Post-retirement, KC got consecutive wins for the last two Chiefs games at the old digs, and since the new one opened, they've not won there once. Throw in the fact that Chiefs fans suffered through the forever-stamped-as-retarded Herman Edwards Experiment and a convenient return to the AFC Championship game for Denver, and I just don't see how the animosity could flow evenly towards Hays, KS from both directions.

B) is for Bubby Brister. It just has to be. In fact, I'll crack into the aforementioned sobriety and a can of Pabst in cheersing you, Mr. Bubby Brister jersey-tucker guy. You. Rule.

C) can only stand for one thing, and that's Cutlerfucker. I have a bit more to say about this neverending nightmare of a story, but for now, get the official word on Denver preparing to trade Jay Cutler here.

D) is for Denver, silly rabbit. Great city. Fantastic scenery in the surrounding areas, and, well, three out of four pretty-darn-cool professional sports teams ain't bad, y'all. Avs, Nugs, Rox -- much love. 'Nuff said.

E) is for Elway. Eli-style.

F) is for Fame. As in the Hall of, also known as Canton, OH, where the true champion of good fortune for all and will toward men is well-represented. The douche faucets...not so much.

G) is for Grbac, because I don't think the English language has ever seen a better 'g' word. I still can't believe that guy was our quote/unquote leader for a time. A deep, dark, painful time.

H) is for horses. They're everywhere around InVesCo. The parking lot. Atop the stadium. On all three versions of the Denver helmet. There've even been horse matter on the team, like that pile of horse-pucky Romanowski, or the horse's ass Maurice Clarett, the horse teeth of Elway, and of course the horse lips of Shannon Sharpe.

I) is for...say it with me now, everybody! "In-Com-Plete!" Liberace just texted me from the grave. His message said "tht iz geigh."

J) is for Joe. The greatest quarterback to ever play the game. No I don't mean Namath, and no I don't say it solely because he was a Chief. Though that does help.

K) is for kharma, bitches. Kay to the harma. Pull some bullshit deal with the Colts to get the 80s Eli under your center, and look what happens: Your entire -- and I do mean 100 percent -- fan base is sick-in-the-mouth obsessed with who his replacement will be, when he will get here, and how soon will he take us to three ass-poundings of Super Bowl games before we can win two consecutive and happily slop our semen across one another's chins. That's right. I said it. Somebody had to say it. Let's run through the mix here: Griese wasn't good enough. I've tried to stick up for him and say that he wasn't given a fair shake, an argument which was tossed to the canvas swifter than a body slam by the J-Y-D, but whatever. There's Bubby. There's Gus. There's The Snake. And now there's Cutler. You know what else there is? Season number 11 since HFCD retired rights 'rounds corns, which means that by the time Jay Jam's replacement is in there and familiar with the system, John Elway's entire career will have already happened again. I dunno. You did get those two trophies, so I imagine it was worth it. I just find it tickling how much struggle there has been in trying to find the new "one."

L) can only be for one thing: Larry. Wow. I could write novels.

M) must be for Mecklenberg. He's probably the first Bronco I remember, and I remember him being pretty good, aside from that gay-pride-parade uniform he always wore on the field. What a creep.

N) is for never, as in never, ever, ever-ever-ever-ever-ever in a million years did I think that the Chiefs would go 2-14. goodtimes.com/cockanballsonthetongue right there.

O) can also only be for one thing: "OHHHHHHHHHHHHHH-OH-OHHHHHHH-OHHHHH! OHHHHHHHH-OHH-OHHHHHHH."

P) has dual significance: Peterson, Pioli. I'll be the one (of eight kazillion) watching.

Q) is for guys that have played for both teams, like Quentin Griffin. Ah, fuck it; it's for queer.

R) is for road wins. I'm told they exist.

S) is for my favorite Tradition-al game-time comment: "Sizzle, sizzle."

T) could be for tight end. It could also be for Tony, but it's actually for both, an' while I'm cheesin' it up, let's throw in "terrific."

U) is for unfortunate, as in it's a shame that these past couple of seasons have tilted the AFC West rivalry peak to Denver-San Diego. For that, and for so, so, so much more, I thank thee, Herm Edwards.

V) is for Big V, which I think stands for the big Victory in the sky I'm hoping to one day see mere moments before a Kansas City Lombardi is hoisted.

W) is for welcome to the machine, Jackson. May the force find you lured to the good side.

X) must be for Brian Xanders. I don't know why. I just want to get this over with now.

Y) has to be yee-haw, which all of us Chiefs fans say when we put on our

Z) ubaz after having sex with our fat sisters in preparation of staying at the bars 'til zee dawn post big-game tailgate.

"Zing!" works pretty well, too, if you feel like substituting it.
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Thursday ThumbTubes & YouNails (now with even worser PhotoShop!): 1-22-09

Well, it's been quite a long day, and though I really didn't work hard at all, it still seems as though the weekend is weeks away. Lucky for all of us sports fans that there's nothing to talk about with regard to the Kansas City Chiefs and the Denver Broncos, and thank the heavens there's an entire week of no football. That's just grand. I suppose I'll be spending my Saturday and Sunday doing household chores and attending functions I was signed up for without my consent. Thanks a million, NFL. At least I still have my man cave to lurk in. You can't take that away from me, you communist league higher-ups.

I don't know about you, but I'm glad that Mike Tyson is still, in some sense, around. And candidly honest. And, um, awkward...



(courtesy of Awful Announcing)

Apparently Playboy is holding its Sexiest Sportscaster contest, and it's down to the final five. Shockingly, the hype is that Erin Andrews is still in the mix, but my vote goes to Molly Sullivan.



If you're so inclined, you can cast a vote here. If you're one of those guys that pitches a tent at the mere mentioning of Miss Andrews, you might want to know about Mr. SEC, who yesterday created a 750-page picture gallery of the famous sideliner. The link is here, but wait a minute before going there, as they're trying to figure out how to get it back up without all of the visits crashing their server. Kinda sounds like an average day around here.

I was rollin' around in the Dot last week, and a co-worker told me this book



was pretty funny, that he really enjoyed reading it. I've never read much R&R, but I understand he's taken a stance against the blogosphere in the past. And now ESPN has given Rick Reilly a blog. So far, it appears to contain nothing but short blips that are apparently funny to someone. Funny to no one, however, is the inclusion of the feature he's titled the Ricktionary. His first entry comes in the form of the suggestion that we get rid of the word "enjoy." So, go check out "Go Fish" and please, do not relish the time you spend there.

In an intriguing match of interests, Galactic Binder has put together a Top Ten list of Star Wars and sports crossovers. My favorite is number two:



Quickly now, from a positive note to a, er...not not negative one: Michael Irvin on radio was not enough.



Michael Irvin went to television. Michael Irvin sucked on television. Michael Irvin got busted with some non-his paraphernelia in his car. Michael Irvin got removed from television. Now Michael Irvin will have a reality TV show. I am begging you: Shoot me. Shoot me right in the face. Shoot me now.

Nate Davis of USA Today has put together a list of some of the greatest NFL athletes never to take a Super Bowl field.



Pretty unfortunate for a lot of those guys. Pretty good read for the rest of us. But back to uplifting...



(courtesy of Sharapova's Thigh)

Now, we mentioned Brenda Warner in last week's installment, and, while I don't think she'll be starring in or attending the Lingerie Bowl,



which may or may not feature -- but really, who cares? -- such talent as this:



Busted Coverage has an interesting look at her recent transformation.

And we'll go ahead and close it out with some Lingerie Bowl footage...



...'cause why the eff not?
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Friday Fiction Fix: "There's a Maniac Loose Out There"

When the week 16s of the NFL seasons roll along, teams can typically be broken down into three categories: 1) in, 2) out, and 3) bubble. While the first two are self-explanatory, it is the last that's most intriguing. There are sub-categories of this third section: the control-their-own-destiny kind, and the hoping-for-the-inevitable variety. This Sunday, two AFC teams will embody one of each said sub-category. The Denver Broncos plan to reign in their fate with a home win -- sure to be chock full of mom's original recipes -- over the hot-and-cold Buffalo Bills, their key to a division title and a playoff berth. Down in Florida, however, the Tampa Bay Buccaneers will host Marmalard and the Norv Turner-led San Diego Super Chargers. Marm' an Co. are a special variety of category three, a perpetual hybrid of both sub-categories: they need to win out, and they're banking on a Bills win to do so. I've already voiced how I'd like to see this all go down, and sure -- it could be conceived as childish, ridonculous, even. The beauty, though, is that I don't care; I know that no matter who claims the throne of the West, that club will get annihilated in the post-season, and I will take joy in said maiming. As with any game, however, there are some x-factors to consider, and we'll look at them after the jump.

Kurt Vonnegut needs no introduction. He was one of the best writers in contemporary American fiction. Before his death in April of last year, he published more than a dozen novels and nearly as many short-story and essay collections. Today's excerption comes form one of those, and it is called Wampeters Foma & Granfalloons, which was first published by Dell Publishing in 1965. The CyberNets have a plethora of information on Mr. Vonnegut, but if you need to look it up, you likely aren't interested in this feature, or still reading this anyway. Without further ado...

"Jack the Ripper used to get compliments on the way he dissected...'It is stated that some...skill seems to have been displayed...' said the London Times...



It couldn't have taken too long to do...



...The details are horrible and pitiful and sickening..."

There are of course two sides to every football team and game.

"My nineteen-year-old daughter Edith knows...



...She met him during a crazy summer she spent on her own...knew him well enough to receive and decline an invitation he evidently extended to many girls: 'Come and see my marijuana patch.'



There really was a marijuana patch for girls to see...a modest one...

...I myself have spoken to a few young people about the...scene, have put this question to them:" How have the Broncos managed to win eight football games this year?

"The answer, invariably: 'Speed.'"

Enter "Mr. Allen...a retired newspaperman who has" been asked to prognosticate how this game will go down. "He has 1100 pages...so far.

Nowhere in all those pages, he told me, is there the slightest hint of how or why...Nobody can imagine...

...He was polite but uncommunicative. At one point, though,...He said this: 'There's a maniac loose out there.'"



There is of course another factor to this game. A factor that takes the form of a man who "finds the culture of the young...so different from his own that he often sounds like an anthropologist far from home..."



It is quite possible that this man believes that "Among the young,...Authority is despised because of it cruel stupidities in pot busts and slums...



...Participants in the culture commonly refer to themselves as 'freaks.'...

...Freaks are worth money to the businessman...



...Thousands...come...to gawk at them -- and to gawk at all the shameless, happy, homosexuals..."



Well, Mr. Vonnegut's story continues as one that keeps the reader on the proverbial edge of the seat, much like I'm sure this contest Sunday in Denver will do. The thing to remember is that there is a maniac loose out there. According to CBSsportsline.com, he's "ready to make his first start in three weeks" and that he aims to "try to spark a bumbling offense and prove he's capable of shedding the inconsistencies in his game."

That's today's fix. Short but sweet. This Vonnegut delight can be purchased here.
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