Can there possibly ever have been a better time to be a Florida Gator? Basketball … then football … then basketball again?! I almost — almost — feel bad for Ohio State. We don’t even consider them “rivals”, but they must hate us now.

The Gators became the first team to go back-to-back since 1992 and the first ever to repeat with the same starting five.

They finished with a 10-game winning streak and haven’t lost a postseason game in 18 tries, counting sweeps at the Southeastern Conference tournaments the last two years.

The Florida Gators are, in sum, why we love college basketball.

Last year was for a ring. This year was for history and something as simple and pure as a teammate’s respect. That’s a legacy.

“Why go to Kentucky?” junior Corey Brewer said. “When’s the last time they won a national title?”

Also see: Eddie Munster Coaches Florida to Second Consecutive Championship

A friend of mine recently asked for a list of good sports websites. If you’re only getting your sports fix from ESPN.com then you’re missing a lot of good stuff. I’ve had a Sports bookmark folder since at least ‘95. Here are the ones that I visit on a regular basis:
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When I ran the LA Marathon last year my goal was to finish in five hours. I had trained for about two months and gotten down to a slender 186 lbs, the least I’ve weighed since my last year of college. Because of a disastrous combination of being mentally unprepared for the event and wearing year-old sneakers, at some point around mile 22 my left knee made a sickening pop. By mile 24 my right knee had joined its brother and I was in excruciating pain. I (literally) limped across the finish line and recorded a disheartening time of 5:46.

This year I decided to run about two weeks ago. I trained my out-of-shape, 200 lb, 33-yr old body for ten days. I figured that I had little chance of doing anything great, but I just wanted to (a) finish the race and (b) beat last year’s time. It was grueling and painful, I got a huge blister on the instep of my left foot, and I thought more than once that I was going to face-plant into the asphalt. But I was much better prepared mentally this time. The miles blazed below me and when I crossed the finish line I was struck dumb by the time: 4 hours, 56 minutes.

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Last night I finished reading Next Man Up: A Year Behind the Lines in Today’s NFL, by John Feinstein. It took me well over a month to get through this 400+ page epic covering the 2004 Baltimore Ravens season. Regardless of how hard I tried, I just couldn’t get into it. I am a huge football fan, so that should tell you something. I very much enjoyed Feinstein’s 1996 football work, the incredibly long-titled A Civil War: Army Vs. Navy : A Year Inside College Football’s Purest Rivalry, so that should tell you something as well.

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There is a point on San Vicente while running West when one rounds a corner and is confronted with — shockingly — what appears to be the entire Pacific Ocean. It is an awe-inspiring sight, even at night. It is at this point, during what is more or less a fifteen mile run, that I usually realize I’ve forgotten to do something to protect my nipples. Aside from the Marathon, this route is the longest I’ve ever run. On little three- and six-mile runs I don’t need to do anything about my chest. On a fifteen mile run, though, thousands of thumping strides will cause a man’s t-shirt to chafe and rub against his nipples until they bleed. The adrenaline and runner’s high will prevent you from realizing how much damage you’ve done to your vestigial mammary glands until you finally arrive home and toss your sweat-drenched clothes into a heap in the bathroom floor. The blisters on your feet, the near-unbearable soreness of your legs and lower back and even arms, the inevitable lingering desire for water … none of these things the next day can compare to the burning pain of having basically rubbed off your nipples. File under: Ouch.

For at least a year or two I’ve been waiting for someone to build a web service I could use to map running routes. This morning I drove to my buddy’s house at 6 and we went on a long run around Beverly Hills. With less than three weeks until the LA Marathon, it’s time to get serious about hitting the pavement. It took us about an hour and ten minutes, but — once again — I had no reliable way to determine the distance other than driving the route and watching my odometer. This is simply not practical in Los Angeles; at 7:30 in the morning there is so much traffic it would have taken me another hour of driving to do that. When I got to the office I figured I’d try searching for a Google Maps mashup. With the Nike iPod for runners and all the other cool mashups I’ve seen for everything else lately, I figured there must be one for running by now.

And there are two! At USATF (USA Track & Field) some brilliant souls have built a perfect route-mapping tool. We ran 6.72 mi (10.81km) this morning. How awesome! And now I can map the other five or six routes we take all the time to see how far I’ve really been going. Awesome. (There’s also one by Nike, but it’s not as cool.)

When the LA Marathon first announced its new point-to-point course last summer, Los Angeles Mayor Antonio Villaraigosa spoke to the significance of transporting participants for free on the Metro on race day. Yesterday, L.A. County Supervisor Gloria Molina, in her capacity as MTA Chair, said in a committee meeting that marathoners should not be provided with free race day transportation and withdrew the agenda item from next week’s MTA board meeting. Mayor Villaraigosa plans to take this matter directly to the MTA board meeting on February 22, 2007.

Please email Supervisor Molina and ask her to explain herself. Let her know that runners are going to be making traffic hell enough already without taking away this free pass!

Update: I sent an email a few hours ago and recently received a very interesting response. Continue reading for Supervisor Molina’s email reply.

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You have to get out of bed pretty early to pull one over on the local coroner in Los Angeles.

Southern California kicker Mario Danelo was drunk when he plunged over a cliff to his death, but the cause of his death was “undetermined,” according to a coroner’s report released Monday.

He’s a football player in excellent physical health. He got really, really drunk. He climbed a large wall and fell over 100′. I don’t see the mystery here. Tragedy? Yes. Mystery? No.

Unfortunately it arrived a day late to accompany me on my trip to Vegas, but I am now the proud owner of a University of Florida golf bag. I managed to snag it on eBay for only $50 and can’t wait to hit the links with it. The bag is Gator orange & blue and sports incredibly attractive Florida logos. A Gator golfing!

The new bag is licensed by Pac Golf in Oregon; they included a handy reference card with the address of their website printed on it. Talk about a marketing faux pas, though: The card has a typo in the URL! The address is listed as www-pac-golf.com instead of www.pac-golf.com.

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The blog for inquisitive Gators, Saurian Sagacity, has done an interesting analysis of the effect of the 2006 NCAA football game clock rule changes. I was annoyed all year by the new changes because I felt that it was making the games shorter. I like college football. I don’t want shorter games. I want longer games! It seemed all year that the games were shorter, but the time I spent sitting in front of the TV didn’t change. And now I realize why.

Yes, the games were shorter by about eight minutes. But it’s not like the networks gave me that time. They took away six or eight plays per game, but we got to see around seventeen more commercials. That sucks. There are already plenty of commercials. It’s not like that cash is going to the schools to pay player salaries. Broadcasting college football is a license to print money. That’s why games are being carried by TBS and TNT now. It’s so lucrative as it is there’s no need to screw me out of those six plays.

The only real issue I have with this analysis is that I think it misses the point. What I’d really like to know is the difference between the number of plays run by quarter. The big change this year, I felt, was that the 4th quarter always seemed to be where the time disappeared. There were definitely some thrilling come-from-behind victories this season, but was it just me that thought there were more of them before the clock rule changes?

Genarlow Wilson, honor student and football star, had consensual sex with a fellow teenager. What happened to him next was a crime.

When he was a senior in high school, he received oral sex from a 10th grader. He was 17. She was 15. Everyone, including the girl and the prosecution, agreed she initiated the act. But because of an archaic Georgia law, it was a misdemeanor for teenagers less than three years apart to have sexual intercourse, but a felony for the same kids to have oral sex.

Now he’s sitting in prison. He got ten years. Been there for two. And there’s not much anyone can do about it, although some are trying.

This is one of the most difficult things I’ve had to do lately, but I feel I have no choice. As of today I am officially removing myself from consideration for the head coaching job in Dallas. As much as I love and respect the Cowboys organization, my life right now is simply too complicated for me to accept the responsibility. I wish Jerry Jones, et.al. the best of luck and I am sure someone else — someone with more experience and a much better coaching pedigree — will soon be interviewed for the job, and I don’t want to make things any harder on the team.

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“What happens here, happens in the rest of the country a decade later.” We’re talking about Los Angeles, folks. This excellent quote is from a stupendous essay on why there will never be an NFL team in LA. It only took me a few months to realize that this place wasn’t going to be able to support an NFL team. Apathy is key. The article makes several perfect points, but the one that matters is the one about caring. In Gainesville, Florida the city is crushed after a Gator loss. And I’m not just referring to a championship game, kids. If the team loses a single game at any point in the season, the entire county is crestfallen for days. There isn’t a smile to be seen anywhere. The baristas at Starbucks glumly pour lattes for grown men who look like they just got the news that JFK was shot.

In Los Angeles the day after USC won the National Championship in football was pretty much exactly the same as the day after UCLA lost the National Championship in basketball. There are — quite literally — millions of people here who are dedicated sports fans. The problem is that there are many, many more millions who don’t know the difference between the SEC and the ACC.

How cool is the World Wide Web™? Within 24 hours of the game I was able to use μtorrent to download the entire 2006 BCS Championship Game and watch it using the latest DivX player. The 2.2GB file took about 20 hours to download, but it’s worth it. I’m considering using the office projector to play the game on the wall behind me on a constant loop.

(While you’re waiting for the massive download, take a look at this awesome video of suffering OSU fans at the game, set to the tune of Beck’s “Loser“. It’s very evil and completely bad karma, but still great.)

At some point about fifteen years ago I subscribed to Sports Illustrated. With the exception of a tragic few months during which most of my mail was trapped shuffling between coasts, I haven’t missed an issue. Generally I ignore all the commemorative editions and t-shirt and sweatshirt offers; I have enough t-shirts and sweatshirts to clothe most of the Sudan, and Lord knows I have far, far too many back issues that I refuse to trash. But when I saw this morning the inevitable Gators Championship Package I knew I was going to have to make a phone call.

My annual subscription automatically renewed at the end of December and the Championship DVD, hard-bound edition, and t-shirt is only available to new subscribers, so I was ready for a fight. To my surprise the helpful customer service rep at SI graciously helped me credit my existing subscription towards a “new” one so I could get the deal. I am going to go out on a limb and credit that to the fact that the call center I reached is located in Ocala, Florida.

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