A Playoff Toast to Fans of Philadelphia Sports

By: C.G. Morelli

Hello, my name is C.G., and I’m a Philadelphia sports addict.  I don’t know when this obsession began because I can’t remember life without it.  Maybe it was something I learned at an early age.  Maybe I have some kind of rare genetic defect.  It’s hard to say, really.  Heck, there could have been something strange in the water I drank as a kid.  Come to think of it, though, I didn’t actually drink much water when I was a kid because I was too busy gulping down a different kind of liquid.  We called it wooder.

I know, I know…you might say wooder is just another pronunciation of the word “water,” some kind of regional dialect or something.  But I know better.  There’s much more to it than that.  All you have to do is pour yourself a glass and you’ll see the difference.  There’s something a little upsetting about a hearty gulp of luke-warm tap wooder.  At first taste, it may seem similar to the garden variety water people drink all across this great nation, and probably even around the world; but I’ve been exposed to the Schuykill River’s bounty my whole life.  And let me tell you, if you’ve had the same experiences as me then you know that wooder is by no means water.  It’s not even close. 

I dare you to sip its sweet nectar at some point in your life so you can taste the acrid heaviness of rusty pipe mingling with the stale tang of supplemental fluoride.  I’ve borne witness to many an outsider who, after taking a manly swig of wooder, could do nothing but spit it up like a baby who’d just been force-fed a jar of strained peas.  But, for those of us who have been gulping it down by the glassful since we were babies, the taste cannot be matched anywhere on Earth.

You really can’t underestimate the importance of wooder.  It’s what we all have in common, isn’t it?  It’s the source; the thing that makes us the anomaly that we are to those poor souls who have only had the chance to drink plain water.  Take me, for example. I’ve been an imbiber of wooder for more than thirty years, and I’ve swallowed enough of that slimy substance to experience its effects first hand.  If you were to follow me around for a while, I’m sure you’d pick up at least a few of my…uhhh…quirks.  After being in my presence for any prolonged period of time, you may notice an unusual amount of pride welling up inside me for a broken-down city.  Or, you may witness a hard-nosed (some would say unhealthy) exuberance for all sporting events that involve Philly or its people in any way.  You may even see, in me and in those of my kind, a lack of what people who drink ordinary water would call a “positive outlook.” 

Blame it on the wooder, I say, because it runs through your veins, burrowing deeply within, infecting the blood and marking you an imbiber for life. If you don’t believe me, a simple pin can prove my theory.  Go ahead and give yourself the slightest prick of the skin so that a few drops of blood trickle onto the tip of the pin.  If you drink ordinary, run-of-the-mill water, then you can expect to see a couple of boring, deep red blobs, none different than the ones you’ve seen throughout your life.  But, if you’ve been drinking wooder all along, you’ll notice something quite different, something that corresponds with the four seasons.  The four seasons in Philly, that is: Baseball, Basketball, Hockey, and Football. 

In the musty, humid months of Philadelphian summer, I can prick my skin to produce a few drops of bright red blood.  In the damp months of late spring, as large clusters of burgundy buds begin to form on the graying branches of the deciduous trees, the blood squeezed from my veins oozes a distinct orange; sometimes I can get a few red, white, and blue drops in a very lucky year. 

Of course, when the summer winds down and the final weekends along the Jersey Shore have been spent, the blood that runs through my veins is a deep, midnight green.  And there is no blood more hungry, more envious of the champion than that which spills the color of the turf at the Linc. Sadly, sheer desire has not translated into ultimate victory.

Our flagship franchise has remained unfulfilled; disillusioned and annoyed by years of empty hoping and stale wait-till-next-year promises.  Outsiders often stare in our direction and wonder, “Hey, buddy, why the brash attitude?” or “Where’d ya get the chip, pal?”  I just return their glare each time with a look that says, “It’s the wooder, kid.  There’s somethin’ in the wooder.”  It’s just who we are and what we know.  It’s what makes the football culture in this great city something special.  Championships or not, ten losses or 10,000 losses, it simply doesn’t matter.

So, if you want to brand me as some kind of addict, then go right ahead.  I’ll keep standing up here with my glass of wooder, admitting to all of you that I can’t possibly do without my teams or my fair city.  Call me a chump, call me weak...whatever.  Because even though I stand up here by myself, I know I’m by no means alone.  Here’s to you Philly, old pal.  I toast to you in advance…with a great big glass of wooder.

Go Birds. This year will be different.

You're OUTTA HERE!!!

By: C.G. Morelli

Before you get all worked up over my not-so-politically-correct decision to sing the praises of unsportsmanlike conduct in the game of baseball, please spare me the tears. I’m not here to endorse fighting, or cursing, or even umpire bashing. I’m not here to teach you how to kick dirt on someone’s shoes. I’m simply not the kind of guy who condones this type of behavior.

But still, there’s something inherently passionate about a coach who storms out on the field to defend his version of justice before his team. I don’t care who you are, there’s something completely satisfying about seeing an umpire’s arm reach to the heavens before unceremoniously pointing a manager in the proper direction for a shower.

As much as we can all admit this behavior is better left to the dogs, we still can’t quite forget there’s something about a manager meltdown that’s essential old school baseball. It’s gritty, and it brings us back to the days of old John McGraw, when winning a ball game was more about protecting your pride than protecting the fan base.

That’s why, as I attempt to fill the next three months until opening day and the next million Sundays until football starts again in Carolina, I’d like to share with you some of the most entertaining meltdowns in baseball history.

The Most Entertaining Manager Meltdowns in Baseball History

We’ll start out with the simple but classic approach to getting ejected. Here’s Ricky VanAsselberg of the Alexandria Aces minor league team giving a gentle nod to the old school as he buries home plate under a mountain of sand. Give a few style points to the ump on the toss.

Butch Hobson of the Can-Am League Nashua Pride added a little creativity to his meltdown routine. Hobson decided a call on a close play at first was so blasphemous that no one should ever again be allowed to touch that base…except, of course, the group of ten year olds seated near the top of the bleachers he delivered it to after being axed. Give this one a minute, it’s worth it.

There are a million clips of Tommy Lasorda hurling insults, spit, and whatever else at unwitting and perhaps even dimwitted umpires. The man’s slight problem with his temper is well documented. But, to me, nothing is more telling of the man’s passion for the game, his team, and his player than this clip. I mean, the guy was ready to argue even in spring training! 

Asheville Tourist’s manager Joe Mikulik would probably like to do these few minutes of his life over again.

Sometimes when I watch Lou Piniella really give it to an umpire I have to ask myself, “Was he basically put on Earth for this exact purpose?” If there’s such a thing as a meltdown artist, Sweet Lou would have to be the one and only. Here’s a double dose for you.

This is perhaps my favorite clip of all time, in any sport. Phillip Wellman, manager of the minor league Mississippi Braves, puts on a performance worthy of an Oscar after getting tossed from a Southern League game. Take note as he army-crawls to the mound, pulls the pin on the, uh, resin bag? And then tosses it grenade style? Genius.

I present to you Earl Weaver, Master of Language. WARNING! Let’s just say this might not be the best clip to play on full volume in the middle of a board meeting. But if a few choice words aren’t enough to get your panties in a bunch, I promise you’ll be in tears during this one. And, by the way, don’t ever put your finger on me again. You’ll know what I’m talking about in a minute.

Honorable Mention

I know, I know. How can I compile a list like this without including all time ejections leader Bobby Cox of the Atlanta Braves? Well, for all the times Bobby’s been given the old heave-ho, he’s really been able to keep a lid on it. That’s pretty surprising when you consider Cox has been sent packing 158 times in his professional managerial career. At any rate, here’s an honorable mention for a guy who clearly prides himself on quantity over quality when it comes to arguing.

Bud Bowl III: Great Taste or Less Filling?

By: C.G. Morelli

Seems I can think back to a simpler time; a time when Super Bowl Sunday wasn’t the selfish, end of season hype generator it is today; a time when our nation’s most widely televised game could share the spotlight with another omnipotent, if ever-juvenile, contest; a time when the stop-break mayhem of a beer bottle football game played ring master to America’s most coveted day of commercial programming.

Of course, I can only be talking about Bud Bowl, the Anheuser-Busch company’s slick marketing ploy which began in 1989 and featured what was billed to be an annual gridiron slugfest between animated teams of Bud and Bud Light bottles.

But I’m not just speaking in general terms here, people. I’m dedicating this article to the genuine article: The greatest Bud Bowl of them all, Bud Bowl III.

To me, this piece of stop-break goodness outshined all other beer-related sporting contests before and after its time. Part of the charm of Bud Bowl III was dependent on the fact that it consisted of a whopping seven ads placed strategically throughout the course of the actual Super Bowl game. That meant you were bound to be treated to an all-important Bud Bowl update nearly twice a quarter on average, instead of the pitiful two or three ad performances of more recent contests.

Also, it was a matchup that set the stage for a possible King of Beers three-peat. A win by Bud would have given them an unprecedented third Bud Bowl championship and an automatic seat in history next to the other dynastic legends of the adult-beverage sporting contest world. Ok, maybe there’s not much competition in this arena. So what?

At any rate, Bud Light wasn’t about to simply crack under the pressure. They had themselves a scrappy team, and past defeats had helped them develop quite a sizable chip on their, eh, shoulders. The addition of top draft pick and star quarterback, “Bud Dry,” also didn’t hurt in the way of boosting Light’s often watered-down confidence.

Aside from all the background hoopla that built Bud Bowl III up in terms of fan excitement, the game itself did not disappoint.

From the opening kickoff, which actually tallied at least 20 seconds on the hang-time meter before ascending out of the stadium, to a big opening drive that featured Bud Light linemen busting open a huge running lane with the aid of a giant-sized can opener, to the introduction of “helmet cam” strapped to the caps of Billy and Bobby Bud (the brothers from Cerveza, TX of course) on a nifty play-action catch and run to open up the King of Beer’s scoring, to the intoxicating play-by-play of ESPN legend Chris Berman, this installment of Bud Bowl had it all.

There was even an encore touchdown plunge by larger-than-life Bud bottle “The Freezer” and a sweet Hail Mary pass to a certain “long necked” Bud receiver to give the defending champs a 21-17 lead with just seconds to go.

But the final play of Bud Bowl III is what cemented it as a commercial masterpiece.

In a play eerily reminiscent of Tennessee’s homerun throwback play (which didn’t happen for another eight years. I think Jeff Fisher may have done a little advance scouting at the Anheuser-Busch facility), surprise kick returner, Bud Dry, collected the kickoff, made a nifty move, and pitched the ball across the field to one of his teammates.

This unidentified Bud Light bottle rumbled down the sidelines, dotted with gasping Budweiser players and coaches, and directly through an over zealous Budweiser team band prepared to celebrate what seemed like a sure Budweiser victory. Then he plowed into the end zone, even with a Tuba uncomfortably clinging to his thermos-chilled body, and gave Bud Light its first ever Bud Bowl championship by a score of 23-21.

By setting up a key TD play earlier in the contest, and through his heroics on the game winning kickoff return, Bud Dry was the clear MVP. True, he may have deserved it. But tell me, folks: Where is Mr. Fancy Pants Bud Dry today?

Discontinued, that’s where.

Regardless, we still have to give Bud Bowl III some love today for being the greatest string of stop-break folly to ever grace all those wasted minutes between Super Bowl drives. Have a look for yourself:

The World's Great Animated Athletes

By: C.G. Morelli

This past Saturday morning, after tossing and turning for the better part of two hours, I decided to roll myself out of bed with the roosters. What I realized was, short of counting the snowflakes as they fluttered in front of my porch light, there’s not a whole lot to do when you’re up at the butt crack of dawn.

So, I thought back to when I was a kid and waking up that early was a birth right rather than an annoying set back. How did I keep myself busy back then? After coming to the conclusion I’m a bit past my prime to whip out the G.I. Joe battle station and figurines, I decided to do the next best thing.

I poured myself a heaping bowl of Count Chocula, headed for the couch and flipped on the tube in search of some classic Saturday morning cartoons.

But, my friends, I’m sorry to say I was gravely disappointed. Gone were the zany and satisfyingly predictable scenes of Acme safes and anvils flattening unsuspecting animated characters. Gone were the tough Brooklyn accents and the silly cat and mouse tactics set to the oddly fitting crescendos of Mozart and Bach.

In their places were sad, sappy space creatures and wimpy pseudo toddlers designed to gently caress self esteem levels and teach kids how to play with blocks as if they already didn’t know.

In a rage, I flicked off the TV and ventured online in an effort to satiate my growing appetite for some slightly less responsible cartoon entertainment. I was really looking for some of my favorites, and I soon realized this composed a short list of animated episodes which related mainly to sports.

What I eventually uncovered was my list of the greatest animated athletic performances in history. So, grab yourself a box of cereal and a gallon of milk, pull up a chair, and show America that we’re through with fuzzy, purple dinosaurs mucking up the cartoon game. Enjoy.

10. Goofy laces up the skates in “Hockey Homicide” (1945)

When it comes to cartoons, Disney tends to spend most of its time on the wimpy side of the fence. But in this rarely remembered episode starring Goofy, we see a whole new side to the bumbling bag of fleas. The NHL should take some notes as Goofy smears a few defenders up against the glass and seems to make a second home in the penalty box. Honestly, I never would have pegged Goofy as a goon. I didn’t know he had it in him.

9. Bobby Hill rallies his troops in “Powder Puff Girls” (2008)

It’s not often Hank Hill gets the chance to be proud of his son Bobby’s athletic prowess. But when he’s picked to captain the football team in the annual Powder Puff Cheerleading spoof, it’s Bobby’s turn to shine. Pay special attention as the young Hill gives birth to a bouncing baby ball and then promptly punts it through the uprights. Nothing spells class in the state of Texas like a good old fashioned baby punting.

8. Woody Woodpecker lays the groundwork for Bugs in “Screwball” (1943)

Sure, that zany, red-headed bird and his slightly maniacal laugh can grate on your nerves at times, but you have to give him a little credit in this particular clip. Notice how his single-handed heroics on the baseball diamond are eerily reminiscent of a classic Bugs episode that just so happens to grace the top spot on this list. As a bit of a cartoon connoisseur myself, I have to give a little love to the short which laid the groundwork for many of the hilarious baseball related cartoons of the future.

7. Tom and Jerry serve court in “Tennis Chumps” (1952)

When two cartoon cats square off against each other on the tennis court, it’s clear there will be only one winner. And that winner, of course, is Jerry the mouse. That’s right, the dude may only be a few inches tall, but it’s hard not to make a serious impact on a tennis match when you’re responsible for substituting the game ball with a massive bomb attached to a short fuse.

6. Fred Flintstone vs. Blowhard Sandstone in high stakes bowling (1962)

Chalk one up for the proletariat, as Fred Flintstone stuns Bedrock with his effortless upset of snooty bowling champ, Blowhard Sandstone. Of course, Fred couldn’t have done it without a little comical help from his partner in crime, a Mr. Barney Rubble. 

5. The Tune Squad Mounts a Late Comeback in Space Jam (1996)

Even pitted against 20 foot mutant Martians with attitudes, you just can’t sleep on Jordan down the stretch. But even MJ has to tip his cap to the sweet sky dunk by Elmer Fudd which helped fuel a Tune comeback in this clip.

  

4. A team of ringers goes wrong in “Homer at the Bat” (1991)

When Mr. Burns places a hefty wager on the outcome of his company softball team’s championship game, he decides to safe guard his investment. The result is a star-studded team of ringers boasting the likes of Wade Boggs, Roger Clemens, Ozzie Smith, and Darryl Strawberry. In the end, however, it’s Home Run Homer who’s the hero when he takes a fastball off his abnormally large melon to walk in the winning run. Athletic performance aside, who can forget the classic song that pulled the whole episode together? Oh, and one more thing: Mattingly, I thought I told you to shave those sideburns!!

3. Charlie Brown, place kicker (1952)

Ever have one of those days that’s best summed up as a cross between being stretched on the rack and taking a kick square in the nuts? One remedy that never gets old is repeatedly watching Old Chuck fall for the same lame pull-the-rug-out, fool-the- placekicker routine that’s had him lying flat on his back since the early 50’s.

 

 2. Bugs Bunny clashes with The Crusher in “Bunny Hugged” (1951)

Our first sign of real vintage Bugs Bunny comes in at number two on the list. It features all the bells and whistles of a Looney Tune wrestling match as the comically tiny rabbit goes toe to toe against a real foam-at-the-mouth maniac known as The Crusher. Bugs doesn’t throw a whole lot of regulation moves at Crusher, but it’s hard to ignore his brutal version of a clothesline using the closed door of a very large Acme safe to seal the deal against another in a long list of moronic opponents.

1. Bugs Bunny takes on the Gashouse Gorillas in “Baseball Bugs” (1946)

“In left field, Bugs Bunny. In right field, Bugs Bunny. In centerfield, Bugs Bunny. Pitching, Bugs Bunny….”

What could be more satisfying than watching the animated king of slapstick singe-handedly mop the field with the overgrown baboons of the Gashouse Gorillas? Pay special attention to that wascally wabbit’s slow ball as it sputters past the plate and manages to wiff the entire side on just a single toss.

The Most Important Innovations in Sports Equipment History

By: C.G. Morelli

 I’m sure I can only speak for myself when I say that studying sports equipment is really interesting. See, I know most sports fans out there aren’t thinking about what kind of resin Roy Halladay powders on his hands before hurling a 90 mph heater. And there aren’t many fans, like me, who see a boxer laid out on the canvas and wonder what kind of mouthpiece it is laying beside him in a puddle of his own drool.

It’s this hazy attention to details that causes many of us to take these seemingly innocent innovations for granted. We fail to see the important roles they play in the lives of our athletes and rarely think about how things would be different without them

Therefore, I feel it is my duty to present to you the most important innovations in sports equipment history.

Honorable Mention – Nerf Footballs

Ok, so these flashy globes of foam rubber aren’t really pieces of equipment used by the professionals, but they sure make your Uncle Harry look like Johnny Unitas.  Maybe he was telling the truth when he told you he would have went pro if not for that damn alien abduction. Either that Nerf ball is scientifically designed to soar 90 yards with a flick of the wrist, or your Uncle Harry’s stashed some performance enhancers in that six pack of brew he’s got dangling from his belt loop.

5. Football Helmets with Facemasks

Just think, it wasn’t until the 1950’s that the modern football helmet and face mask were mandated in the pros. Before that, guys pretended to be tough while wearing the same leather helmet worn by Snoopy in his exploits as the Red Baron. Could you imagine how many teeth must have littered the turf by game’s end? It must have looked like closing time at the Chic-let factory. I guess on the bright side, however, not having facemasks would have eliminated pretty-boy smile guys like Tony Romo and Tom Brady from the game. Of course, I’m sure it also eliminated any chance of having the ability to produce rational thought after an average playing career.

4. Batting Helmets

The original batting helmet, used from the mid 1800’s all the way up into the 1950’s, was portable, fit like a glove, and was incredibly inexpensive. That’s because it was the human skull. Apparently no one thought it was a priority to protect the most vital organ in the body from whizzing, rock-hard projectiles. That is until the Major League death toll from wild pitches tallied six players by 1951. Teams like the Pittsburgh Pirates took notice of this scary statistic and began wearing protective helmets. Of course, the rest of the league immediately branded them as pansies… until 1954, when Joe Adcock was knocked unconscious by a wild pitch for a full 15 minutes. After that, the league decided to mandate the helmet rule for all players. Now you couldn’t catch a ballplayer standing in the on-deck circle without a helmet.

3. Hockey Goaltender Masks

You have to be either extremely brave or extremely stupid to stand in front of a blazing slap shot and stop a puck with your face. Until Jaques Plante of the 1960 Canadiens finally donned a protective mask, hockey goalies were a little bit of both. Since then, the goalie mask has progressed from the full plastic variety, made famous by Jason Voorhees in the slasher flicks Friday the 13^th, to the modern version of a helmet and a protective metal cage that we commonly see today. Both varieties have allowed goaltenders to escape their playing days without losing an entire row of teeth or winding up with a face only a mother could love. 

2. Protective Cups

There’s really not much to say here. To even provide a reminder of sports without the trusty walnut shell would be an exercise in barbarity to anyone who’s ever taken a knee to the groin during a game of rough-touch football. But, yes, the forefathers of sports didn’t think twice about leaving the little guy open to injury. Makes you wonder how we all came to be, doesn’t it? The first cup was actually just a rolled-up piece of leather. Yeah, that gives you peace of mind. Thankfully, a wide variety of lightweight and sturdy materials now exist to protect you from the ultimate manly mishap.

1. Baseball Caps

There’s not a day that goes by where I don’t sing the praises of the baseball cap. I mean, I where a cap so often it’s become my hairstyle, and that’s the way it is for millions of hat-dependent Americans each day. Don’t feel like combing your hair? Baseball cap. Don’t want your hair to get wet in the rain? Baseball cap. Don’t have hair at all? Baseball cap. It’s the answer to most head-related issues…at least in my book.

But one thing that can’t be disputed is the modern ball cap has become an American staple, like the cowboy hat or apple pie. Thankfully, the original straw hat worn by the 1860 Brooklyn Excelsiors has come a long way. It’s been updated to the modern 59-50 style worn by current major leaguers. Otherwise I’d be sitting on a porch with a goofy straw hat and a corn cob pipe trying to whittle something right now.  

 And, really, who wants that?