Monday, January 26, 2009


Much of the last month has left me scratching my head regarding the teams I follow. The seeming collapse of the Vinny Del Negro era in Chicago has left me somewhat pleased that I never got around to purchasing the NBA package. Lovie's decision to throw lower level defensive assistants to the wolves while at the same time keeping Babich but stripping him of play-calling responsibilities is reasonable assurance that nothing will change next season and that Bears fans can look forward to another year of .500 football.

And now Georgetown is unraveling. For the first time during JTIII's tenure, I was unable to understand the strategy employed in Thursday's home embarrassment to West Virginia. That confusion, borne from watching Henry Sims sit on the bench alongside Julian Vaughn while every Hoya not named Monroe jacked up errant three point shots, continued this afternoon during the catastrophic loss to Seton Hall. In the words of a film I care too much for, Georgetown's young team has been weighed, it has been measured, and it has been found wanting. After seeing Sims, Clark, and Vaughn as catalysts in Georgetown's early success in conference play, I am at a loss to understand the severe reduction in playing time that has fallen on them of late. There are probably a lot of reasons why bad teams are now beating Georgetown (whatever else might be said, neither West Virginia nor Seton Hall are good teams), but most of my attention on Thursday night was focused on DaJuan Summers, who doesn't seem to play defense, tends to forget that he doesn't have a very good perimeter shot, and shows apathy bordering on disdain for driving to the basket. After scoring the first basket of each half with a drive to the backboard, Summers went away from that part of his game and settled back to shooting horribly from outside the arc. DaJuan is probably the single most important player on Georgetown's team because of his size and skillset and the lack of any similar type player on Georgetown's roster. At this point, the chance that this season would prove to be another magical run for the Hoyas has all but dissipated, but I still love watching the team and hope that they can right the ship before returning home on February 3rd.

In the interim, there is soccer. I was readying my daughter for a trip to the zoo on Saturday when the radio commentary of Charlton's cup match with Sheffield United alerted me to Chris Dickson's goal. The fact that Dickson was playing coupled with the fact that Dickson did Dickson-like things made me yelp with such fervent delight that I managed to startle her. But the joy of Dickson's meager proof that yes, Maryland, Charlton has a striker dissolved later in the evening upon reading the comments of the twit currently in command of the squad. (Really, Parky? If Dickson continues to play like this as a sub and practices hard he might get a chance to start? -- My apologies but my tolerance for delusional self-aggrandizing bullsh*t from the club's management was all used up by Pardew. Suck it up Park, come to grips with the fact that you were wrong, put Deon back in his box and give Dickson his run beginning on Tuesday against Palace. Otherwise, please shut up).

I'd already renewed our tickets for another season of CP Baltimore, but grappled with reservations about another go as a DC United season ticket holder. Soehn, like Pardew and Parkinson, is a master at wasting talent while throwing his players under a bus for what are largely failures of management. But the club is run well, the players are great, and the fans care... so maybe another run. So when an account rep called two weeks ago to inquire about whether I was going to let the tickets lapse, I was very much on the fence. When they drafted Rodney Wallace, I renewed, but downgraded the tickets from VIP to Premium. It will drive me nuts to watch them underperform for another year, but it sure beats the hell out of going to Nationals games.

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