Armistice Day

Today is Veterans' Day, originally known as Armistice Day. While the holiday now honors all war veterans, it is important to remember what it originally commemorated. At 11:00 a.m. on November 11, 1918 (the eleventh hour of the eleventh day of the eleventh month), the guns fell silent on the Western Front, and World War I came to a close.

While World War II certainly was more horrific in terms of the numbers of people killed, I think World War I is appropriately regarded as the greatest cataclysm of the 20th Century. Because of it, Bolshevism came to Russia, Nazism came to Germany, and a century long period of peace and stability in Europe was replaced by three quarters of a century of conflict and uncertainty.

I wanted to remind people of this fact, because I'm surprised how little attention is paid to World War I and its fallout outside of the community of professional historians. That fact was driven home to me in a telephone conversation that I had yesterday with a guy in Toronto. We were working on a business transaction, and when he was reminded that today was a legal holiday in the U.S., he noted that this shouldn't cause us any problems, because it wasn't a holiday in Ontario. That surprised me, because the valor of Canadian troops at a place called Vimy Ridge during the Nivelle Offensive of 1917 was one of the key experiences in forging Canadians' national identity. At one time, Vimy Ridge was almost as central to what it meant to be a Canadian as Gallipoli was to what it meant to be an Australian.

Americans are forgetful as well. The United States entered the war late, when the allies were near exhaustion. The French wanted to split the American Expeditionary Force up among existing French and British units, but General Pershing refused. They would fight under their own flag, and fight they did. By the Summer of 1918, the Americans had proven themselves to be quite ferocious. During the Battle of Chateau Thierry, elite Prussian storm troops got behind a group of American soldiers. The Americans turned on them, fixed bayonets, and by the time the dust settled, there were only three Germans left alive.

"How did you do it?" asked a Prussian officer. "We are storm troops."

"Storm hell!" the American responded. "I come from Kansas, where we have tornadoes."

When Marshal Foch began the offensive that would win the war in 1918, he selected the units in which he had the most faith to lead it. Those troops were the French Foreign Legion, two divisions of the United States Army, and the United States Marine Corps.

So, think of all who served our country today, but spare a special thought for the men of The Great War. The horror they lived through, the valor they demonstrated, and the sacrifice they made should always remain in our memories.

They got it right

The Sporting News got it right. Its writers selected Mark Shapiro as the Executive of the Year, as I said should happen in my first post on October 8th entitled, "He's just that kind of fun guy."

Rather than being pleased that our guy received a little recognition, the award only heightens my concern. I have been reading that the devil, Scott Boras, keeps saying that almost all teams are interested in giving Kevin Millwood a five-year deal. That's devil code for "the Indians are out of the picture." That's a problem. This will be perhaps the weakest free agent group in the last 10 years. There aren't a lot of options for team improvement who will be available. That's why Dolan's unwillingness or inability to grab a top player last year is inexcusable.

I suspect that, after the Hot Stove season ends, Larry Dolan will still have his hands in his empty pockets and mumble something about the market not cooperating with Shapiro's plan. That's bull. The teams and MLB know what the free agent market will be like years in advance. All player contracts are filed with the league. All teams know who will be a free agent and when. The only exceptions are those players who rework contracts during their terms.

Here's a safe prediction: Dolan blows it and lets Shapiro take the hit. Don't let him. Put the blame where it deserves to be.

The Coolest Ritual in Sports

What's the coolest ritual in sports? Is it the Miami Hurricanes crashing through the fog to enter the stadium? How about the Florida State's Chief Osceola driving his flaming spear into the 50 yard line before the game? Maybe it's Script Ohio? Midnight Madness at Chapel Hill? The Cameron Crazies' antics when a Duke opponent's at the charity stripe? Cubs fans throwing the other team's dingers back? Pick any one of them you like. For my money, the New Zealand All-Blacks rugby team takes the prize. Before each game, they do a Maori dance called "The Haka." It's way cool, and intimidating as hell.

Take a look at the effect of The Haka on England's team (the reigning World Champs) just before a 2004 match. You'll need Real Player for this one, and it's kind of a lengthy download, but I think it's worth it.

The Haka's fairly menacing, and the other teams know it. Most try to look impassive, which is what England does, rather unconvincingly, in the attached clip. However, according to the New Zealand Rugby Museum, that isn't always the case: "in 1989 Irish captain Willie Anderson led his team forward to a virtual face to face confrontation. Newport that year retired behind their goalline, so the All Blacks advanced to the 22 to issue their challenge. English hooker Richard Cockerill eyeballed Norm Hewitt as he led the haka at Manchester in late 1997. There have too been various Australian reactions."

"Just Win Baby"

I really wanted to call this post "Smokin' Hot Wet Lesbian Cheerleaders" but thought that was a little much for a family-oriented blog like ours. As noted, the Rhino and I did have a few drinks and brought our bartender to a place of enlightenment by the end of the evening. She was great. She's twenty-five years old and is preparing to use her very valuable Political Science degree from CSU to launch her career in electoral politics. Having a great deal of expertise in this area, since the Rhino and I are both proud Poli Sci graduates, and because we'd been drinking for a while when she told us about her ambitions, we gave her some unsolicited advice. Good luck darling. Don't let anyone dissuade you. You have certain attributes that no Political Science professor can teach. I don't know if that makes you electable, but it's far better than the alternative.

Anyway, back to football. Those of you who follow the Raiders know that "Just Win Baby" is the slogan of the owner, Al Davis. It came from his days as the coach of the outlaw AFL Oakland Raiders. It meant that he didn't really care what you did all week long, as long as you strapped it up on Sunday and played 60 minutes of smash mouth football. The Raiders have always used the slogan as a source of pride and a means to attract otherwise troubled souls to the Silver and Black. The list of wild players who found a home and prospered with the Raiders is huge, but perhaps no one lived the slogan more than Big John Matuszak. At 6'8" and 280 pounds, he was one of the dominant defensive players of his era and led the Raider defense to two Super Bowl victories. He died at age 38 of heart failure, which people attribute to his wild and reckless life, including the use of recreational drugs and anabolic steroids. The reason I was thinking about the Raiders and The Tooz, is all this nonsense about the TopCats (you know, the hot lesbian cheerleaders ---see I can play too, Rhino ). You see, The Tooz apparently had a penchant for The Raiderettes, and usually two of them at a time. So, with all the hypocrisy surrounding the the discovery that cheerleaders, in this case the TopCats, might not be entirely so demure, I thought I'd check in on my favorite professional football cheerleaders, The Raiderettes. If you check out their official website, you'll be pleased to see that The Raiderettes are all about T & A, and provide no illusions about supporting the community or doing anything other than providing a little titillation in between tackles. Let's face it. Americans love football, and all real Americans love football when it's accompanied by smokin' hot women in revealing costumes.

Check out The Raiderettes' website. A "Committment to Excellence," indeed.

Rhino + Vinny + Alcohol = Brett Favre is Overrated

I sat in my office this evening, doing the Lord's work and generally making the world safe for large American corporations, when Vinny called to inform me that he was in my building's lobby, and that it was time for me to buy him a beer. That sounded reasonable to me. As we imbibed we discussed a wide range of topics: foreign policy, the war, taxes--in other words, lots of stuff we knew nothing whatsoever about.

Fortunately, I'll spare you those bloviations. If you want that crap, there are only about a trillion other places on the Internet where you can get. You come here looking for sports drivel or, if you're like the 1,100 people who've been here since yesterday afternoon, lesbian cheerleaders. Make that hot, naked, lesbian cheerleaders (that ought to give us another 5,000 hits!).

Anyway, eventually the topic turned to sports, and after a few diversions relating to bad Cavs draft picks (think Tragic Langdon), we somehow stumbled onto Brent Favre, and specifically onto how overrated this guy is as a quarterback.

Now, don't get me wrong, there's a lot to like about Brett Favre, but people who think he's in the same class with the likes of Joe Montana, Horseface, Tarkenton, Broadway Joe or The Great Johnny Unitas, peace be upon him, are smoking crack. Like many of today's QBs with inflated stats (think Marino), Favre owes quite a bit to rule changes that have stacked the deck against defenses for much of the last 25 years. For example, think of the illegal chuck rule, the changes in blocking rules that "legalized" holding, the ability to avoid an intentional grounding call by getting outside the tackle box and throwing the ball away, the stupid interpretations that result in roughing the passer calls if a defensive player hits a QB a split-second after he releases the ball.

I will give Favre credit. He is one tough hombre and a very good--borderline great even--NFL QB. He's got a ring and three MVPs, and is a lock for Canton, but he has hung around for way too long and been given way too much slack by a media that has absolutely fallen in love with him. Boomer Esiason was the first member of the media with the stones to point out that the Emperor has no clothes, when he called Favre out for his truly bizarre decision to throw an underhand shovel pass on the last play of the Packers' final drive against the Bengals a few weeks back.

I saw that play too, and it reminded of a bigger gaffe by Favre in a bigger game--one that was so bad that any other QB would have heard about it all offseason.

What I'm talking about is the play that took place just before halftime in the Packers' playoff game against the Vikings last season. Green Bay was down by 14 and had driven deep into Minnesota territory. On third and five from about the 15 yard line, Favre dropped back to pass, got pressure and then started to run. For some inexplicable reason, about a yard short of a Packer first down, the Great One threw a weird underhand basketball pass across his body to a receiver for a touchdown. Brilliant improvisation, but the problem was that Favre was past the line of scrimmage--way past--when he did this. That meant no touchdown, no first down, no fourth and short, no chance to close the Viking lead to a touchdown at halftime. Instead, Favre got a penalty, and the Packers had to try a field goal, which they missed.

AND NOBODY SAID ANYTHING!!! This may be the stupidest thing I've ever seen on a football field, but because it was Brett Favre, nobody mentioned it. Sure, it was overshadowed by the jackassery of Randy Moss, who chose to moon the Green Bay faithful that day, but c'mon--this is a really, really bad decision that the guy should have been called on the carpet for. But, because he's The Great Brett Favre, nobody said squat.

Come to think of it, I will have another beer.

Vinny blows a golden opportunity to catapult us to the top of the search engine rankings

Last year, something called the British Council conducted a survey that concluded the most beautiful word in the English language is "Mother." Awwww, that's nice.

Nobody's conducted a survey on the most popular phrase in the English language among men ages 18-35, because there's just no reason to do that. Everybody knows that among that segment of the populace, there is no combination of words that could possibly be more appealing than "lesbian cheerleaders."

My pal Vinny blew it. He puts up a solid post on the antics of the Carolina Panthers' cheerleaders, but not once does he use the magic words that would be guaranteed to get Vinny and the Hornless Rhino 200,000 hits per day. What was he thinking?

Okay, Google, here it goes:

lesbian cheerleaders
lesbian cheerleaders
lesbian cheerleaders
lesbian cheerleaders

Boys will be boys.

And girls most definitely will be girls. That includes the spirited beautiful woman who occasionally diddles another woman in public. What's the big deal? That's the kind of thing that guys read about in articles that begin, "I attend a major midwestern college; and I never thought this would happen to me; but...." As has been said, that's the stuff that dreams are made of.

Apparently, it's not and I'm sadly out of step with the rest of America because a couple of the TopCats, the Carolina Panthers' cheerleaders, were arrested this weekend for having sex in a public bathroom. Their mug shots are above. I'm still trying to figure out who reported them. I know that a disgruntled customer complained that they were tying up the bathroom with their antics, but for cryin' out loud, it was at a Banana Joe's in Tampa. Do you think that was the first time two people had sex there? Do you think it was even the first time last week that someone had sex there?

Stuff like that happens all the time. Lots of us wish and hope against hope that it would happen to us. So, why the outrage and an arrest? Is it just that this is fine for us to think about or even do but not acknowledge in polite company? This whole experience left me a little confused, but then I thought about Colonel Jessup. He may have said it best:

You don't want the truth because deep down in places you don't talk about
at parties, you want me on that wall. You need me on that wall.

---Colonel Nathan R. Jessup
A Few Good Men

Browns 20, Titans 14

Well, I'll take it! It wasn't pretty, and it frequently wasn't very good, but it was a win featuring some hard nosed performances by the Browns' defense and Reuben Droughns, who overcame the distraction of his DUI arrest to give the Browns the most gutsy performance from a running back that they've seen since they returned to town.

Right now, I'm blogging from LaGuardia airport, so I'm not going to say much more. I was at the game yesterday, and there are a few thumbs-ups and thumbs-downs that I want to give out before I get on my plane.

Thumbs way, WAY up for Reuben Droughns, who literally left it all on the field for the Browns.
Thumbs up for Dennis Northcutt for the catch and the double reverse. Welcome back to the Cleveland offense, Dennis.
Thumbs up for the Browns' defense, which shut down the Titans when it had to do so.
Thumbs up for Kyle Richardson, whom I've crucified over the last two weeks. He deserved crucifixion then and he deserves praise now.
Thumbs down for Phil Dawson. I don't care if you were 14 for 14--you get paid to hit a 39 yard field goal in the clutch, and you didn't.
Thumbs down for Steve Heiden. Talk about untimely penalties!
Thumb up his ass--again--for Trent Dilfer. What was he thinking when he once again made a decision (the third down pass behind the line of scrimmage) that took the Browns out of field goal range late in the 4th quarter?
Thumbs down for the Rhino, who managed to fit his ample head up his ass once again with this weekend's prediction (jeez, I had cool stats and everything!)
Thumbs up for the stadium entrepreneuer who came up with the "Kellen Knievel" tee shirt being hawked outside the game yesterday. Outstanding!

Finally, a BIG thumbs up for the truth in advertising homeless guy I saw on the way out of the game, who held up a sign that read: "Why Lie? I need money for beer" as he jingled his cup full of coins.

Browns v. Titans

Okay, here we go again. The Rhino is trotting out his bruised ego and will try to do a little better with his prognosticating than he did last weekend.

The Browns host the Tennessee Titans on Sunday. On paper, the Titans are just as putrid as the Browns. Like Cleveland, Tennessee is reeling from three straight losses. While the Browns' losses are attributable to several factors, one problem in particular stands out for the Titans: turnovers.

The Titans lead the AFC in turnovers with 17 and have the conference's worst turnover ratio (-8). During their three game skid, Titan turnovers have resulted in 41 total points for the opposition. That number's big enough, but when you consider that the total margin of victory in those games was 27 points, it shows the devastating effect that turnovers have had on the Titans so far this season.

Even though they've been pegged as three point favorites, I don't like the Browns' chances, and I'll tell you why. First, there's the distraction factor. The Browns' needed Reuben Droughns' arrest and the QB controversy this week like they needed a hole in the head. Second, and more importantly, Tennessee's going to almost have to give this game away with turnovers, because the Browns just don't match up well with them. In fact, the areas of the game in which the Titans are the strongest are the ones in which the Browns are the weakest. For instance:

• Cleveland ranks 15th out of 16 teams in the AFC in third down percentage, converting on only 31.6% of its attempts. In contrast, Tennessee's defense ranks 2nd in the AFC and fourth in the NFL on third down percentage. Titans' opponents have converted only 30.4% of all third downs. On 3rd-and-4 or less, Tennessee's opponents are only 10 for 36.

• The Browns need to run the ball against the Titans, but they rank an anemic 13th in the conference, with an average of 92.1 yards per game. In contrast, Tennessee's defense ranks 6th in the AFC against the rush.

• While the Browns struggled in the kicking game last week, the Titans' Pacman Jones is 3rd in the NFL in kick returns with a 28.6 average, while Courtney Roby is 16th with a 24 yard per return average.

Tennessee is vulnerable to the pass, and has given up an AFC leading 17 touchdowns through the air, but you tell me if anything the Browns have done in the past three weeks leads you to believe that they're going to light up anybody's secondary right about now.

Offensively, putting the turnovers aside, Tennessee's been pretty effective passing the ball, ranking 4th in the AFC in both yardage and completion percentage. Their running game stinks, but not as bad as the Pumpkin Helmets' rushing game does.

The Titans are dealing with a number of injuries to key players (9 players sat out practice on Wednesday, including Steve McNair), and they are the youngest team in football. Still, when you look at the numbers, Tennessee isn't as bad a team as their record suggests. I'm not so sure the same can be said for the Browns. Titans 23, Browns 16.

Here's hoping I'm wrong again this week.

Pity Party

Sometimes, you've just got to shake your head at the arrogance of the average NFL owner. My new pal, New Orleans Saints owner Tom Benson, is at it again. Apparently, people who are trying to put their lives back together after seeing their city destroyed don't take too kindly to a fat cat looking to move his team to greener pastures, and aren't afraid to let him know it.

Like everyone in Northeast Ohio, I've got no sympathy for Mr. Benson's bruised feelings. Go ahead, Tom, make everyone's day and stay away from the Saints' home games--such as they are--for the rest of the season. Then, when you skedaddle with your team for San Antonio, be sure to blame the politicians and say things like "I had no choice."

Oh, and by the way, isn't it great to see the umbrage this clown takes at the thugs who he contends were threatening him? Hey, bud, welcome to the average NFL fan's typical Sunday experience. Thanks to the level of boorish behavior that you and your colleagues have tolerated for years, you've managed to drive everyone else's wives and kids from the stadiums, so turnabout is fair play.

Cheer up, Tom--unlike everybody else who has been subjected to this behavior at an NFL game, at least you get the beer revenues.

Life's little certainties

It has been suggested that death and taxes are the only two certainties in life. I would like to propose a third--- the annual arrest of the Browns' feature back for DUI. It's a little early this year, though, isn't it?

In Reuben's defense, after Sunday's game, wouldn't you drink too?

Speaking of drunks, Vinny's post reminded me of my favorite incident involving a fan running on to the field. Back in the early 1970s, the Colts were playing a playoff game, and some drunk fan ran onto the field and decided to help himself to the football. That didn't sit well with Colts' linebacker Mike Curtis, who knocked the fan out cold with a tremendous forearm to the head.

By the way, Mike Curtis went to Duke, which is probably why Marty Schottenheimer thought fellow Duke alum and Browns' #1 pick Mike Junkin would be -- let's say it together now--- "A Mad Dog in a Meat Market." Ah, memories!

On field etiquette

I was watching the replays of the goof in Cincinnati who ran on the field and grabbed the ball from Brett Favre. He's pretty lucky that it was the paunchy security guard who gave him a pile driver into the turf, as opposed to a pissed-off player. With 22 world class athletes standing around in armor, that guy's lucky he didn't get killed.

Although I tend to believe that athletes are generally overpaid, thin-skinned, pampered prima donnas, I do think they have the right to kick someone's ass who enters the playing field. In addition to being fundamentally fair, it's pretty damn entertaining.

Remember the guy who parachuted into the Evander Holyfield---Riddick Bowe boxing match and received a heavyweight ass-kicking for his trouble? I loved that. He claimed the moniker "Fan Man," and used a motorized parachute to drop in on the fight to protest the "senseless violence of boxing." Unfortunately for Fan Man, the protest didn't really have its desired effect. You see, the other fans, who paid a lot of dough to watch a heavyweight fight not some jackass with a parachute, beat him senseless. When he recovered consciousness, he was jailed That's the kind of sports memory that sadly doesn't get included in ESPN's Most Exciting Sports Moments, even though it was exciting and funny as hell.

Of course, the grandaddy of them all may be the time, in April of 1975, when Rick Monday of the Dodgers shoved a protester down and wrenched the American flag away from him before he could burn it. Monday became an instant hero; received a boatload of congratulatory letters; and had a career year to boot. The protester, on the other hand, was jailed.

Although I generally enjoy watching the occasional overzealous fan receive a televised beating from one of his sports heroes, I'll pass along a quick suggestion that might save a loyal Vinny and the Hornless Rhino reader from that fate: First and foremost, I think it's safe to say that you should not, under any circumstance, enter the field of play during a game. That rule, however, doesn't apply at all if you have really big jugs. If you've got 'em, go for it. The world is your oyster. Of course, you don't need me to tell you that. You've probably known that since the eighth grade. But, to be clear, I don't mean to imply that, if you're merely "buxom," you have a free pass to run out onto the field or court. Oh no. I mean you have to have really BIG JUGS to get away with it. They have to be big enough to stop a guy in his tracks on the street. They have to be big enough to be seen from a good distance. For example, the outfielders have to know in a glance that you're some hot chick running out on the field toward home plate and not some deranged nut trying to offer violence to a teammate. Morgana the Kissing Bandit never seemed to get into trouble, even though she was routinely violating ballpark rules. Perhaps that's because her stated measurements were 60-23-35.

I know I wouldn't have the heart to convict someone like that for criminal trespassing, but that's just me. I'm old-fashioned.

There he goes again with the "one play" thing!

Like I said before, it isn't just one play.

How the NFL Works

The NFL has earned a reputation as the nation's best-run professional sports league. Here are two incidents that illustrate the thinking that underlies NFL's vaunted management style.

In early October, Baltimore's Terrell Suggs and Ed Reed were fined $15,000 a piece for making contact with officials during the Ravens loss to the Lions. While Reed shoved the official, Suggs' contact involved his face mask touching the bill of the ref's cap while he was arguing over a roughing the passer call. Suggs' contact may have been unintentional, but the NFL is to be applauded for cracking down on this type of conduct. After all, the integrity of the league is at stake in these situations.

Now, just to show you that the NFL isn't afraid to exercise some discretion, it announced yesterday that no action would be taken against Saints owner Tom Benson, who went on a teensy weensy rampage after the Saints' loss to the Dolphins last week. Benson reportedly smacked and grabbed at a television camera (with a cameraman attached to it). This was followed shortly by Benson reportedly "cursing and stepping toward a fan who was taunting him before members of Benson's entourage pulled him back."

NFL mouthpiece Greg Aiello announced the league's decision not to take action against Benson yesterday. He noted that he reviewed the tape, and the incident "appears to be nothing more than a brief heated exchange with a member of the media that was caught on camera" and that "it's not the first time in the world of sports and entertainment that something like this has occurred." Greg, you're so right. After all, Mr. Benson's been under tremendous stress lately, as the liquid H-bomb that was dropped on New Orleans put a crimp in his plans to pull a Modell on the Crescent City and move his team to San Antonio or Los Angeles.

Now, some of you probably can't understand the distinction between fining a player whose contact with the official involved touching the bill of his cap $15,000 and not fining an immature jerk of an owner who attacks a cameraman and has to be restrained from going after a fan. Let me explain the distinction to you: Tom Benson is a rich white owner, and Terrell Suggs is a rich black player. That's how things work down on the NFL plantation.