I just got to work, and I probably shouldn't be doing this, but it's a slow day, and I figured I could bang out a couple of hundred words on the finale of "Top Chef" because it was so infuriating.
***SPOILER ALERT--If you have yet to watch the finale of "Top Chef" and don't want to know who won, stop reading***
Let me preface this by saying that I am not a big fan of Hosea. Seriously, he was so whiny when it came to Stefan, and I got so tired of him saying, "you know, I really like my food with a lot of flavor. Flavor is my thing." No shit, you're a chef. Flavor is the fucking point.
Hosea started the season strong, but he sort of slipped through the cracks over the final six episodes or so, and I lost respect for him when he, the self-identified fish expert, botched the fish challenge. If I recall correctly, the only reason he wasn't eliminated that day is because it was a team challenge, and his team won (no thanks to him). To me, Hosea is one of those guys who on the surface appears to be a really nice guy. But as the season progressed, it seemed more and more like he was one of those guys who looks like he is really chill, but is actually a self-involved douche. Stefan is clearly a douche, but there is no pretense there. He knows it, and he doesn't care if you know it too. And once it was obvious that Carla (who is clearly more likeable than both of the guys) was not going to win, I found myself rooting for Stefan.
But even though I don't like Hosea, he deserved to win last night based on the format. It's just that the format was stupid.
All I really learned about Hosea last night is that he is really good and randomly selecting knives and pieces of king cake, because it was those two events that led to his victory. Any "Top Chef" connoisseur knows that Richard is an amazing chef, and from what I saw he was a level above any of the chefs from this season. So when Hosea got first choice of sous chefs, it was obvious he was going to pick Richard and gain a huge advantage. And sure enough, the sous chefs played a major role as Casey, Carla's sous chef, cost her any shot at the title, though I realize Carla needs to take the blame for listening to all of Casey's dumb suggestions. Seriously Carla, what were you thinking? You had so much mojo going into the final episode, yet you let this former "Top Chef" runner-up talk you into going out of your comfort zone. As soon as she said, "well, I'm never done this technique before, but OK!" I knew it was going to be a disaster. And it was. If she had been even close, the judges would've given it to her on personality alone.
Anyway, in addition to getting lucky picking knives, Hosea also got first choice of appetizer ingredients after getting the piece of king cake with the plastic baby inside. This really made me angry. Why would you want two major elements of luck playing such a large role in the finale? In every other episode, there is a quickfire challenge that determines who will get the advantage in the main challenge, yet in the finale they did it entire based on luck of the draw. It was silly. They should have said, "Carla, since you had last choice of sous chefs, you get first choice of appetizers. Followed by Stefan, then Hosea." This, at least, would've evened out the randomness of the advantage gained.
So yeah, Hosea took his advantages and ran with them, and he deserved to win based on his performance last night. But frankly, I think Richard had a hell of a lot to do with it. If he had Casey as his sous chef (as opposed to Richard), and alligator as his appetizer (as opposed to red fish), I don't think he would've won. And if you think about it that way, Hosea doesn't seem like such a good choice. I'm just glad I won't have to hear about how Stefan is his nemesis anymore. Maybe he can finally get over his nauseating inferiority complex.
Thursday, February 26, 2009
Tuesday, February 24, 2009
The List
As some of you may know, I’ve been writing regularly for ESPN Insider. I enjoy it mostly because it’s an outlet for my stat-geeky side. I bring this up for two reasons. 1) You should all subscribe to Insider, if only because you want me to continue to have a job. 2) My next piece is about the Royals, and my editor said something to me today to the effect of, “I bet you just can’t get enough of the Royals.” And I replied, “lay off, that’s like my fifth favorite team.” He then asked,” Fifth favorite team? At which point do you stop keeping track?”
Good question. And it got me thinking about how all 30 teams stack up for me. So, without further adieu, what follows is my own personal power rankings. These are not in order of best to worst, but rather favorite to least favorite. Sometimes these vary from year to year.
1. Mets—This one doesn’t need any explanation. I started paying attention to baseball in 1986 because my father was a Mets fan. They won the World Series, and I’ve been hooked ever since.
2. Twins—One of my best friends in college was a Twins fan, so that gave me my original affinity for them, and I’ve admired their ability to stay competitive with a small budget and a philosophy that runs counter to much of what I believe it takes to build a winning team. In fact, it may be proof that I have no idea what it takes to build a winning baseball team. Oh, and I loved Kent Hrbek when I was a kid for a reason I can’t explain.
3. Pirates—I always think baseball is more interesting when the original franchises are relevant. Plus, I have two friends who work for the team. And I like their uniforms.
4. A’s—Like the Twins, I admire small-market teams that can stay competitive. But unlike Minnesota, I like the way in which the A’s run their organization. Translation: I have a man-crush on Billy Beane.
5. Royals—See, I told you so! Great stadium, and I ranked their top 30 prospects for the 2007 Baseball America Prospect Handbook, so I feel a bond there.
6. Reds—See Pirates (Everything except for the friends who work for them).
7. Rays—Prior to 20005, I didn’t give a crap about them, but they’ve grown on me for two reasons. First, when I was living in North Carolina, I worked down the street from the where the Durham Bulls (their Triple-A affiliate) play, so I became quite familiar with their prospects. Second, they are the reason the Yankees didn’t make the playoffs last year.
8. Indians—This is mostly because of “Major League,” and also because I had an Indians cap from about 1995-1999 that I loved.
9. Mariners—Griffey was a lot of fun back in the day.
10. Diamondbacks—Ended the Yankees run of championships in 2001. Plus, Chris Young is the friendliest player I’ve ever interviewed.
11. Red Sox—Getting kind of sick of them, but the way they humiliated the Yankees in 2004 will never be forgotten. Yes, I realize a lot of these rankings are motivated by anti-Yankees sentiment. But when the Mets are out of it (which is what happens most Octobers), rooting against the Yankees is all I have. Sigh.
12. Tigers—Curtis Granderson is one of my favorite players. Possibly my favorite. That’ll be another list down the road.
13. Giants—My father was a Giants fan until they left New York, and he still has a soft spot for them. And to some extent, I do too. Plus, there was a short period in the late 1980s when Will Clark was my favorite player.
14. Brewers—I like beer.
15. Padres—Of all the stadiums I have ever been to, theirs is my favorite.
16. Rockies—After the Mets were humiliated by the Phillies in 2007, they immediately swept Philly. It took the edge off the pain just a little bit.
17. Nationals—The one team in their division the Mets can consistently beat.
18. Blue Jays—I used to think Kelly Gruber was cool. And Rance Mullniks is possibly the greatest name in baseball history.
19. Rangers—I’m pretty neutral on these guys, but they had to go somewhere.
20. White Sox—Ditto.
21. Orioles—Ditto.
22. Astros—Ditto, but they get docked because Mike Scott scuffed the ball in the 1986 NLCS.
23. Dodgers—As Fletch said, “I hate Tommy Lasorda.”
24. Cubs—A lot of their fans are whiny. We get it, it’s been 100 years.
25. Angels—Not a fan of the way their style of play because they stubbornly refuse to take pitches. Plus, the Rally Monkey is a travesty.
26. Marlins—Mets rival, always kind of obnoxious.
27. Cardinals—I don’t mean to say this in some sort of Patrick Ewing sort of way, but the Mets were the better team in 2006. Yes, I realize that the nature of baseball means that the inferior team will often win a seven-game series, but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating.
28. Braves—They tormented all Mets fan from 1998-2005.
29. Phillies—The new Braves.
30. Yankees—I realize this is irrational. My least-favorite team should be the Phillies or Braves, both direct rivals of my favorite team, but I just can’t help it. I simply hate the Yankees. And when the Braves played the Yankees in the World Series, I rooted for Atlanta. And if the Phillies faced the Yankees, I’d probably root for Philly.
A lot of people in the sports media will tell you that members of the sports media are not supposed to have favorites because it prevents objectivity, and I've always thought this was dumb. Being a passionate fan is what got me into this business in the first place. The day I stop being a fan is the day I stop enjoying my job.
Good question. And it got me thinking about how all 30 teams stack up for me. So, without further adieu, what follows is my own personal power rankings. These are not in order of best to worst, but rather favorite to least favorite. Sometimes these vary from year to year.
1. Mets—This one doesn’t need any explanation. I started paying attention to baseball in 1986 because my father was a Mets fan. They won the World Series, and I’ve been hooked ever since.
2. Twins—One of my best friends in college was a Twins fan, so that gave me my original affinity for them, and I’ve admired their ability to stay competitive with a small budget and a philosophy that runs counter to much of what I believe it takes to build a winning team. In fact, it may be proof that I have no idea what it takes to build a winning baseball team. Oh, and I loved Kent Hrbek when I was a kid for a reason I can’t explain.
3. Pirates—I always think baseball is more interesting when the original franchises are relevant. Plus, I have two friends who work for the team. And I like their uniforms.
4. A’s—Like the Twins, I admire small-market teams that can stay competitive. But unlike Minnesota, I like the way in which the A’s run their organization. Translation: I have a man-crush on Billy Beane.
5. Royals—See, I told you so! Great stadium, and I ranked their top 30 prospects for the 2007 Baseball America Prospect Handbook, so I feel a bond there.
6. Reds—See Pirates (Everything except for the friends who work for them).
7. Rays—Prior to 20005, I didn’t give a crap about them, but they’ve grown on me for two reasons. First, when I was living in North Carolina, I worked down the street from the where the Durham Bulls (their Triple-A affiliate) play, so I became quite familiar with their prospects. Second, they are the reason the Yankees didn’t make the playoffs last year.
8. Indians—This is mostly because of “Major League,” and also because I had an Indians cap from about 1995-1999 that I loved.
9. Mariners—Griffey was a lot of fun back in the day.
10. Diamondbacks—Ended the Yankees run of championships in 2001. Plus, Chris Young is the friendliest player I’ve ever interviewed.
11. Red Sox—Getting kind of sick of them, but the way they humiliated the Yankees in 2004 will never be forgotten. Yes, I realize a lot of these rankings are motivated by anti-Yankees sentiment. But when the Mets are out of it (which is what happens most Octobers), rooting against the Yankees is all I have. Sigh.
12. Tigers—Curtis Granderson is one of my favorite players. Possibly my favorite. That’ll be another list down the road.
13. Giants—My father was a Giants fan until they left New York, and he still has a soft spot for them. And to some extent, I do too. Plus, there was a short period in the late 1980s when Will Clark was my favorite player.
14. Brewers—I like beer.
15. Padres—Of all the stadiums I have ever been to, theirs is my favorite.
16. Rockies—After the Mets were humiliated by the Phillies in 2007, they immediately swept Philly. It took the edge off the pain just a little bit.
17. Nationals—The one team in their division the Mets can consistently beat.
18. Blue Jays—I used to think Kelly Gruber was cool. And Rance Mullniks is possibly the greatest name in baseball history.
19. Rangers—I’m pretty neutral on these guys, but they had to go somewhere.
20. White Sox—Ditto.
21. Orioles—Ditto.
22. Astros—Ditto, but they get docked because Mike Scott scuffed the ball in the 1986 NLCS.
23. Dodgers—As Fletch said, “I hate Tommy Lasorda.”
24. Cubs—A lot of their fans are whiny. We get it, it’s been 100 years.
25. Angels—Not a fan of the way their style of play because they stubbornly refuse to take pitches. Plus, the Rally Monkey is a travesty.
26. Marlins—Mets rival, always kind of obnoxious.
27. Cardinals—I don’t mean to say this in some sort of Patrick Ewing sort of way, but the Mets were the better team in 2006. Yes, I realize that the nature of baseball means that the inferior team will often win a seven-game series, but that doesn’t make it any less frustrating.
28. Braves—They tormented all Mets fan from 1998-2005.
29. Phillies—The new Braves.
30. Yankees—I realize this is irrational. My least-favorite team should be the Phillies or Braves, both direct rivals of my favorite team, but I just can’t help it. I simply hate the Yankees. And when the Braves played the Yankees in the World Series, I rooted for Atlanta. And if the Phillies faced the Yankees, I’d probably root for Philly.
A lot of people in the sports media will tell you that members of the sports media are not supposed to have favorites because it prevents objectivity, and I've always thought this was dumb. Being a passionate fan is what got me into this business in the first place. The day I stop being a fan is the day I stop enjoying my job.
Sunday, February 22, 2009
Won't You Be My Neighbor
Normally I could not give a crap about celebrity gossip. If Lindsey Lohan passes out drunk at Hillary Duff's house because of one too many Bartles & James, I really couldn't care less. However, once in a while, there is a piece of celebrity news that is so huge, and hits so close to home, that I can't help but get excited about it. Just take a look at this excerpt from Usmagazine.com that my sister sent to me:
"Is Angelina Jolie looking for an apartment in NYC?
A few weeks after signing the lease on a $60 million Long Island mansion, the actress, 33, was spotted checking out a nice building in Manhattan's uptown Washington Heights neighborhood Tuesday afternoon."
To channel my inner Dick Vitale, "Are you serious??!?!!?!?!?!" In case you didn't know, I grew up in Washington Heights, and the thought of arguably the world's most famous couple buying a place there is somewhat incomprehensible. To be clear, it's not as if I lived in one of the tougher areas of the Heights. In fact, I probably lived in the least-tough section of the neighborhood, complete with security guards and rose gardens. That being said, I can still relate with the entire area, as I had to venture out of my little Ivory Tower to run errands and get to the subway. As recently as 15 years ago, it was a big deal when the Heights finally got a restaurant that didn't have plastic utensils. The next thing I knew, gay men decided it was going to be an annex of Chelsea, and suddenly the Heights had cache.
The transformation of Washington Heights is no different than the "gentrification" of other neighborhoods around New York City over the past decade, but I am not sure I will really ever get over it. For so many years, no one knew where it was, or if they did, they thought it was the Bronx. To this day, when Tim McCarver talks about Manny Ramirez, he says something to the effect of, "Ramirez, who's from the Washington Heights section of the Bronx." Yes, he's from Washington Heights, but it's not the Bronx. Represent.
The Heights has changed so much over the years, that there are now Starbucks, organic foods stores and "gift stores." You know, the places where the sell shit no one would ever actually want. And now, two of the most famous people in the world are looking for a place up there. They must have really liked "In The Heights."
It's hard to imagine Brad and Angie actually moving in, but it would probably good for property values. But then again, after seeing them at the Oscars last night, I was again reminded of how weird those two are. They might make for weird neighbors. But probably no weirder than the old Russian dude that used to stand in the middle of Bennett Park and scream "Gyna" at the top of his lungs.
"Is Angelina Jolie looking for an apartment in NYC?
A few weeks after signing the lease on a $60 million Long Island mansion, the actress, 33, was spotted checking out a nice building in Manhattan's uptown Washington Heights neighborhood Tuesday afternoon."
To channel my inner Dick Vitale, "Are you serious??!?!!?!?!?!" In case you didn't know, I grew up in Washington Heights, and the thought of arguably the world's most famous couple buying a place there is somewhat incomprehensible. To be clear, it's not as if I lived in one of the tougher areas of the Heights. In fact, I probably lived in the least-tough section of the neighborhood, complete with security guards and rose gardens. That being said, I can still relate with the entire area, as I had to venture out of my little Ivory Tower to run errands and get to the subway. As recently as 15 years ago, it was a big deal when the Heights finally got a restaurant that didn't have plastic utensils. The next thing I knew, gay men decided it was going to be an annex of Chelsea, and suddenly the Heights had cache.
The transformation of Washington Heights is no different than the "gentrification" of other neighborhoods around New York City over the past decade, but I am not sure I will really ever get over it. For so many years, no one knew where it was, or if they did, they thought it was the Bronx. To this day, when Tim McCarver talks about Manny Ramirez, he says something to the effect of, "Ramirez, who's from the Washington Heights section of the Bronx." Yes, he's from Washington Heights, but it's not the Bronx. Represent.
The Heights has changed so much over the years, that there are now Starbucks, organic foods stores and "gift stores." You know, the places where the sell shit no one would ever actually want. And now, two of the most famous people in the world are looking for a place up there. They must have really liked "In The Heights."
It's hard to imagine Brad and Angie actually moving in, but it would probably good for property values. But then again, after seeing them at the Oscars last night, I was again reminded of how weird those two are. They might make for weird neighbors. But probably no weirder than the old Russian dude that used to stand in the middle of Bennett Park and scream "Gyna" at the top of his lungs.
Tuesday, February 17, 2009
No Charge
There are few certainties in life. But for me, one of the few I can count on is this: When a non-sports oriented mainstream publication runs a major sports-related story, it will get e-mailed to me by at least four different people. I'm not complaining about this phenomenon, it's just a fact. People who know me know that I love sports, and therefore they think I will enjoy the story, or at least like to know what kinds of stories non-sports publications believe are worthy of publishing. And this goes both ways. I have a friend who loves, LOVES, Tom Waits, so if I see a story about Waits (or one that references him in any meaningful way), I will always send it to him in an e-mail that begins, "I'm sure I'm like the 20th person to send this to you, but . . ."
This is a long way of saying that when I heard Michael Lewis had a story about Shane Battier and the use of sabermetrics in basketball in The New York Times Magazine, I knew that a bunch of people would send it to me. And they did. Say what you want about Lewis, and some of the embellishments in "Moneyball," but he's an excellent storyteller. And as someone who has been really interested in the growing use of sabermetrics in basketball, I loved the story. Not only did I learn something about the Rockets' progressive methods, but Battier came off as affable, intelligent and self-aware. The one downside of the story is that it reminded me of why I used to hate Battier—drawing charges.
As someone who worshipped the Knicks of the early 1990s, it might seem a little hypocritical to knock a guy for his ability to draw charges. Heck, John Starks, Derek Harper and Charles Oakley were the Three Tenors of drawing charges. They made it in an art. And as the Knicks mastered the art of drawing charges at the pro level, the Duke Blue Devils were at the forefront of the movement in the college game, with Battier leading the way. I dislike Duke basketball (except for Grant Hill) for a variety of reasons, and their flopping is right up there at the top of the list.
I was discussing this phenomenon with my roommate, and he brought up a good point. "Has Stuff White People Like done a piece on drawing charges?" he asked. Seriously, is there anything white/Duke basketball players like more than drawing charges? I'm guessing it has something to do with making up for physical limitations, because I remember once drawing a charge in a middle school basketball game, and it was orgasmic. However, since I was playing against a bunch of other pudgy, Jewish kids, I'm not exactly sure if I was making up for any biological shortcomings.
The greater point of this whole thing is that charges are dumb, and I didn't come to this realization until long after Oakley had retired. By simply in getting in someone else's way, you can draw a foul, but shouldn't we encourage defenders to be making a play on the ball? Instead, we've created this culture where defenders try to calculate when they can step into someone else's path so as to draw a charge. Then they flop backwards like they've been shot to try and get the whistle, and they usually do. Then said player is embraced by their coach and verbally fellated by the TV announcers because of "good fundamentals." You know what is actually good fundamentals? Defending (and possibility blocking) the shot or pass.
It's funny, I've heard a lot of American criticize soccer because of all the diving to draw fouls, but that's exactly what every single basketball player is doing when they try to draw a charge. The only time a charge should be called is if the player with the ball is out of control. That's it. Otherwise, the onus should be on the defender to make a play on the ball.
This is a long way of saying that when I heard Michael Lewis had a story about Shane Battier and the use of sabermetrics in basketball in The New York Times Magazine, I knew that a bunch of people would send it to me. And they did. Say what you want about Lewis, and some of the embellishments in "Moneyball," but he's an excellent storyteller. And as someone who has been really interested in the growing use of sabermetrics in basketball, I loved the story. Not only did I learn something about the Rockets' progressive methods, but Battier came off as affable, intelligent and self-aware. The one downside of the story is that it reminded me of why I used to hate Battier—drawing charges.
As someone who worshipped the Knicks of the early 1990s, it might seem a little hypocritical to knock a guy for his ability to draw charges. Heck, John Starks, Derek Harper and Charles Oakley were the Three Tenors of drawing charges. They made it in an art. And as the Knicks mastered the art of drawing charges at the pro level, the Duke Blue Devils were at the forefront of the movement in the college game, with Battier leading the way. I dislike Duke basketball (except for Grant Hill) for a variety of reasons, and their flopping is right up there at the top of the list.
I was discussing this phenomenon with my roommate, and he brought up a good point. "Has Stuff White People Like done a piece on drawing charges?" he asked. Seriously, is there anything white/Duke basketball players like more than drawing charges? I'm guessing it has something to do with making up for physical limitations, because I remember once drawing a charge in a middle school basketball game, and it was orgasmic. However, since I was playing against a bunch of other pudgy, Jewish kids, I'm not exactly sure if I was making up for any biological shortcomings.
The greater point of this whole thing is that charges are dumb, and I didn't come to this realization until long after Oakley had retired. By simply in getting in someone else's way, you can draw a foul, but shouldn't we encourage defenders to be making a play on the ball? Instead, we've created this culture where defenders try to calculate when they can step into someone else's path so as to draw a charge. Then they flop backwards like they've been shot to try and get the whistle, and they usually do. Then said player is embraced by their coach and verbally fellated by the TV announcers because of "good fundamentals." You know what is actually good fundamentals? Defending (and possibility blocking) the shot or pass.
It's funny, I've heard a lot of American criticize soccer because of all the diving to draw fouls, but that's exactly what every single basketball player is doing when they try to draw a charge. The only time a charge should be called is if the player with the ball is out of control. That's it. Otherwise, the onus should be on the defender to make a play on the ball.
Sunday, February 8, 2009
Jammin' On The One
Upon stumbling into the Izod Center (formerly Brendan Byrne Arena) for Monster Jam, I wasn't exactly sure what I was getting into. Sure, I had grown up on commercials telling me that on "Sunday, Sunday, Sunday" there would be "mud, sweat and gears" at some local arena, but I had never heeded those words. And though I knew there would be monster trucks driving over beat-up old cars, I didn't really understand the machinations of a monster truck rally. In order to find some answers (and get some beer), my companions and I decided to chat up a beer vendor.
"Well, it's pretty much like the WWE in that it's all fixed," he said. "And I'll tell you this much, you won't find any of these guys on Jeopardy."
If that's not a great sales pitch, than I don't know what is.
If you've never been to a monster truck rally, here's a brief rundown. There are four mediums, wheelies, sprint, doughnuts and freestlye.
The wheelie competition is judged, and it seems as though you are rewarded for getting as close as possible to a 90-degree angle. The three judges were sitting about three rows behind us, and they each had 10 pieces of paper numbered 1-10. When each contestant had performed, they held up their score. It was pretty sophisticated.
The sprint was pretty objective. Two cars lined up alongside one another and raced across rows of adjacent cars to a finish line about 25 yards away. Like the wheelie competition, it was over in about four seconds.
Doughnuts were probably the most amusing event, as each truck tried to generate enough speed to spin around in circles as quickly and tightly as possible. The one downfall of this event was that it was loud. In fact, the whole thing is pretty fucking loud. I wasn't prepared for it, but when I noticed that the family sitting next to us were all wearing those noise-canceling headphones you see people wearing at gun ranges, I knew we were in trouble. I really can't say enough about how loud a monster truck rally is, and the doughnuts are the loudest part. Like the wheelies, this is event judged.
The last event is the freestyle, which is simply 60 seconds for each driver to show off all his best tricks. In reality, it's just a repeat of what we've just seen in the previous three events. I got the feeling that the executives of the Monster Truck Association of America (I made that name up) decided that people needed a little more for their money, so they created the freestyle. It seemed unnecessary, but Gravedigger, which I gather is the Hulk Hogan of monster trucks, put on quite a show in the freestyle. So I guess that made it worthwhile.
I've mentioned this experience to a few people over the past week, and the most common question seems to be, "what was the demographic at the show?" It appeared to be mostly families with young sons, and the headphone family next to us appeared to be experts. Whenever I needed a question answered about the "sport," their eight-year-old son was more than happy to fill me in. That was nice. There was also a pair of girls who appeared to be in their early 20s sitting in front of us. My friends and I asked them if they were regulars at monster truck rallies, and one of them said, "not really. I'm a big WWE fan, and she loves NASCAR. So we figured we would check this out." These are definitely not the kind of girls I met at a small private college in Maine.
I wouldn't say that "attend a Monster Truck rally" was on my bucket list, but it certainly satisfied a lifelong curiosity of what one would be like. Not sure how much fun it would be sober, but it definitely passed the "fun while drunk" test. But then again, what doesn't?
Thursday, January 29, 2009
More Bruce!
It's come to my attention that there is a faction of Bruce fans who are unhappy about him playing halftime at the Super Bowl. I learned this from a recent Joe Posnanski column on the subject, and it seems as though a number of die-hard fans think that because he has been turning down the opportunity to play the Super Bowl halftime show for years, his agreeing to do it this year means he is somehow "selling out." Now, I don't know if the people discussed in Posnanski's column actually represent a large number of Bruce fans, but I don't have the energy to go scouring message boards and Bruce blogs, so I'll just assume there is a relatively sizable number of Springsteen fans who feel this way. If so, that's just silly.
On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being "I'll stupidly sing along to Glory Days when it gets thrown on the jukebox," and 10 being, "I have a copy of an experimental ska album done by Clarence Clemons and Nils Lofgren," I'd say my Bruce fandom rates at about a 7. I love him, and of course the E Street Band, but I am not fanatical about him. I went through a two-year period around the turn of the century when I was obsessed with his three-disc live album, and I have now seen him in concert four times. In fact, on more than one occassion I've told people that seeing him with my three of my closest friends in a luxury box box (with an open bar) at Madison Square Garden in 2001 was the most fun I've ever had. And I meant it.
That being said, I am not as obsessed as many others are. And as a result, I may not have the same kind of connection deep in my soul where his decision to play the Super Bowl could somehow affect me. But at this point in his career, it's hard to imagine there is any way Bruce could realistically "sell out." The guy has been packing stadiums (not arenas, stadiums) for decades. He's sold millions of records and been worshipped by pretty much everyone everywhere.
Furthermore, the whole concept of selling out is kind of stupid to begin with. When musicians start making music, they're dream is to get as big as someone like Springsteen. That's the goal, to fill venues and sell countless records. The whole thing reminds of a quote about selling out that I believe has been credited to James Hetfield of Metallica. "Yeah we sold out. Every night, every show, every building." At this point, the only way I think Bruce could actually sell out is if he and the E Street band did a U.S. tour in support of Sarah Palin's 2012 presidential campaign. If that happens, then yeah, he sold out.
I realize it's common for fans who have been with an artist from the beginning to feel a sense of detachment when they hit it big. And when it happens, they will accuse the band of "selling out." But usually what happens in those cases is that the band then develops a whole new mainstream following and loses its original die-hards in the process, kind of like Blues Traveler. But even if there were Bruce fans who gave up on him when he hit it big, they are long gone. So if you're still a Bruce fan, you've lived through "Dancing in the Dark," you've lived through "Human Touch." For Godsakes, you've lived through that remix of "The Secret Garden" that played all over the radio that included audio clips from "Jerry Maguire." If you stayed with Bruce after that, how the hell could you think he is selling out now?
So what if Bruce has been turning down the Super Bowl for 20 years and suddenly decided he wants to do it. At this point, the guy doesn't have a lot left that he hasn't accomplished musically. Playing halftime of the Super Bowl is one more thing to check off the old list. And some might say he's only doing this because he wants to pimp his new record. So what? The guy just made a new album he's proud of, and he wants people to listen to it. Why not promote to the entire fucking world?
There's a chance that Posnanski is wrong, and Bruce fans aren't actually upset about this. If so, then I guess this whole post can serve as my feelings about the concept of "selling out."
On a 1-10 scale, with 1 being "I'll stupidly sing along to Glory Days when it gets thrown on the jukebox," and 10 being, "I have a copy of an experimental ska album done by Clarence Clemons and Nils Lofgren," I'd say my Bruce fandom rates at about a 7. I love him, and of course the E Street Band, but I am not fanatical about him. I went through a two-year period around the turn of the century when I was obsessed with his three-disc live album, and I have now seen him in concert four times. In fact, on more than one occassion I've told people that seeing him with my three of my closest friends in a luxury box box (with an open bar) at Madison Square Garden in 2001 was the most fun I've ever had. And I meant it.
That being said, I am not as obsessed as many others are. And as a result, I may not have the same kind of connection deep in my soul where his decision to play the Super Bowl could somehow affect me. But at this point in his career, it's hard to imagine there is any way Bruce could realistically "sell out." The guy has been packing stadiums (not arenas, stadiums) for decades. He's sold millions of records and been worshipped by pretty much everyone everywhere.
Furthermore, the whole concept of selling out is kind of stupid to begin with. When musicians start making music, they're dream is to get as big as someone like Springsteen. That's the goal, to fill venues and sell countless records. The whole thing reminds of a quote about selling out that I believe has been credited to James Hetfield of Metallica. "Yeah we sold out. Every night, every show, every building." At this point, the only way I think Bruce could actually sell out is if he and the E Street band did a U.S. tour in support of Sarah Palin's 2012 presidential campaign. If that happens, then yeah, he sold out.
I realize it's common for fans who have been with an artist from the beginning to feel a sense of detachment when they hit it big. And when it happens, they will accuse the band of "selling out." But usually what happens in those cases is that the band then develops a whole new mainstream following and loses its original die-hards in the process, kind of like Blues Traveler. But even if there were Bruce fans who gave up on him when he hit it big, they are long gone. So if you're still a Bruce fan, you've lived through "Dancing in the Dark," you've lived through "Human Touch." For Godsakes, you've lived through that remix of "The Secret Garden" that played all over the radio that included audio clips from "Jerry Maguire." If you stayed with Bruce after that, how the hell could you think he is selling out now?
So what if Bruce has been turning down the Super Bowl for 20 years and suddenly decided he wants to do it. At this point, the guy doesn't have a lot left that he hasn't accomplished musically. Playing halftime of the Super Bowl is one more thing to check off the old list. And some might say he's only doing this because he wants to pimp his new record. So what? The guy just made a new album he's proud of, and he wants people to listen to it. Why not promote to the entire fucking world?
There's a chance that Posnanski is wrong, and Bruce fans aren't actually upset about this. If so, then I guess this whole post can serve as my feelings about the concept of "selling out."
Tuesday, January 27, 2009
I Love Rock And Roll
I've been thinking about Bruce Springsteen a lot recently. The most obvious reason for this being that he, along with the E Street Band, is playing at halftime of the Super Bowl. While I don't normally give a rat's ass about who does the halftime show, Bruce is about as good as it gets. Therefore, it's a good bet that this year's halftime will be entertaining, as opposed to unbearable. I still miss the days when shows like "In Living Color" and "Beavis and Butthead" ran original episodes during halftime of the Super Bowl, but even that probably would've lost out to Bruce for me. In case you were wondering, "In Living Color's" Super Bowl content hasn't aged all that well, though I did chuckle at their Bob Griese joke.
The other reason I've been thinking about Bruce is because of a band I've recently discovered called The Gaslight Anthem. Like dozens (maybe thousands) of bands before them, TGA's sound is regularly compared to Bruce's. And really, these guys are like him, and it's not just because they are from New Jersey. As guitarist Alex Rosamilia says of his band, "It sounds like Bruce Springsteen singing for a Cure cover band, with a tinge more aggression." If that description doesn't intrigue you, well then I don't think I like your taste in music.
I came across TGA when I noticed they were playing at Webster Hall with Heartless Bastards, another recent fave. I figured that if they were playing with Heartless Bastards, they must be pretty good. So I read a couple of reviews, and their most recent album, The '59 Sound, was very well-received. And I obviously took notice when I saw a number of reviews compare them to the Boss. I then checked them out on MySpace, and bought tickets to the show after listening to this song.
***On an unrelated noted, I just remembered that Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers played the halftime of the Super Bowl last year. This is relevant because of how Heartless Bastards got their name. A couple of the members of the band were playing one of those video trivia games at a bar, and the question was, "what is the name of Tom Petty's band?" And one of the options for multiple choice was "Heartless Bastards." That means that the last two bands I've fallen in love with both have direct ties to the two most recent Super Bowl halftime performers. Coincidence? I think so.
Part of what I enjoy about TGA is that they're completely unabashed about their Bruce influence. In fact, I've noticed references to Bruce lyrics in at least two of their songs.While noticing things like that are kind of cool as a Springsteen fan, that's not why I've been obsessed with them for a week. When it all comes down to it, what makes them stand out is that they just rock. They're sound is not really original, but it doesn't matter. As far as I'm concerned, the true sign of a great rock band is one that make you want to get into a power stance and air-guitar along with them. And it's not necessarily because the guitar playing is transcendent on its own, but because the band has such a feel for the music they are trying to make. That's TGA.
Oh, and I love their attitude. The quote I gave above from Rosamilia comes from some random Q&A I found on a music blog. And I particularly enjoyed this exchange:
Q: You have also been compared to The Killers, does this make you feel any different to the Springsteen comments?
A: I couldn’t care less about being compared to the Killers. I’ve never really gotten into them, and I don’t see the comparison at all. Sorry.
Could this be the start of a Killers-TGA feud? I hope so.
And while we are still sort of on the subject of Bruce, let me just put out my prediction for the four songs he will play on Sunday. My guess is he opens with The Rising, followed by The Wrestler. Then he'll go into Glory Days and finish it all off with Born To Run. Just in case you cared . . .
The other reason I've been thinking about Bruce is because of a band I've recently discovered called The Gaslight Anthem. Like dozens (maybe thousands) of bands before them, TGA's sound is regularly compared to Bruce's. And really, these guys are like him, and it's not just because they are from New Jersey. As guitarist Alex Rosamilia says of his band, "It sounds like Bruce Springsteen singing for a Cure cover band, with a tinge more aggression." If that description doesn't intrigue you, well then I don't think I like your taste in music.
I came across TGA when I noticed they were playing at Webster Hall with Heartless Bastards, another recent fave. I figured that if they were playing with Heartless Bastards, they must be pretty good. So I read a couple of reviews, and their most recent album, The '59 Sound, was very well-received. And I obviously took notice when I saw a number of reviews compare them to the Boss. I then checked them out on MySpace, and bought tickets to the show after listening to this song.
***On an unrelated noted, I just remembered that Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers played the halftime of the Super Bowl last year. This is relevant because of how Heartless Bastards got their name. A couple of the members of the band were playing one of those video trivia games at a bar, and the question was, "what is the name of Tom Petty's band?" And one of the options for multiple choice was "Heartless Bastards." That means that the last two bands I've fallen in love with both have direct ties to the two most recent Super Bowl halftime performers. Coincidence? I think so.
Part of what I enjoy about TGA is that they're completely unabashed about their Bruce influence. In fact, I've noticed references to Bruce lyrics in at least two of their songs.While noticing things like that are kind of cool as a Springsteen fan, that's not why I've been obsessed with them for a week. When it all comes down to it, what makes them stand out is that they just rock. They're sound is not really original, but it doesn't matter. As far as I'm concerned, the true sign of a great rock band is one that make you want to get into a power stance and air-guitar along with them. And it's not necessarily because the guitar playing is transcendent on its own, but because the band has such a feel for the music they are trying to make. That's TGA.
Oh, and I love their attitude. The quote I gave above from Rosamilia comes from some random Q&A I found on a music blog. And I particularly enjoyed this exchange:
Q: You have also been compared to The Killers, does this make you feel any different to the Springsteen comments?
A: I couldn’t care less about being compared to the Killers. I’ve never really gotten into them, and I don’t see the comparison at all. Sorry.
Could this be the start of a Killers-TGA feud? I hope so.
And while we are still sort of on the subject of Bruce, let me just put out my prediction for the four songs he will play on Sunday. My guess is he opens with The Rising, followed by The Wrestler. Then he'll go into Glory Days and finish it all off with Born To Run. Just in case you cared . . .
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