Tuesday, June 20, 2006

Enough Is Enough on Daly

Let me up, I've had enough. Please, no more articles about John Daly. I've had a daily dose of Daly for a few weeks now, and I can't stand anymore.

Ever since Daly's book, "My Life In And Out of the Rough," came out, we've been reading and hearing about Daly's exploits constantly — how much money he lost gambling, his drinking philosophy. Enough!

And then ESPN magazine comes along last week with a cover story on Daly. Inside, the magazine lists its "Gospel According to John." The article provides JD's views on drinking, working out (an oxymoron, indeed) and . . . gulp . . sex, among other topics. But Daly's take on sex did me in. In fact, the bit may have turned me off permanently.

Please, media, no more stuff on Daly. I don't want to know what he thinks about anything, be it the American League East or the "S" word.

Friday, June 09, 2006

When It Rains, It Pours at Muirfield

I’m starting to wonder if there isn’t something to the screwy, soggy legend that Muirfield Village Golf Club is cursed. Indeed, there is something weird and wet going on there.

The Dublin, Ohio-based course, site of Jack Nicklaus’ Memorial Tournament, has its own monsoon season — seemingly every year the tournament is held. Last week, it rained again and the tournament was delayed throughout the weekend. That makes rain in 21 of the 31 years the tournament has been held. As one sports writer covering the event put it, “Instead of a gray blazer, perhaps the champion of the Memorial Tournament should be awarded a rain suit and an umbrella.”

Legend has it that the reason it rains is because the course was built on sacred Indian burial ground. Hence, the deceased chief of those Indians cast a curse — as in cats and dogs — on the course during the tournament.

Think there’s anything to it?

— Larry Aylward, Editor in Chief

Monday, June 05, 2006

Getting Older a Few MPH Every Day

What better way to celebrate my friend's 39th birthday Sunday night than to head to the ballpark.

And what better way to fritter away what turned out to be a 14-2 Indians loss than to head to the speed-pitch machine that's just a soft-toss from our season tickets in Section 113 of Jacobs Field.

Once upon a time, the Juggs Gun was my ally. Blessed with a decent arm that earned me the childhood nickname "Rifle Fife" (after Barney Fife, God rest his silver bullet and soul), I'd regularly hit 69 mph. And once — at the "Taste of Cleveland" festival about eight years ago — I jacked it up to 75. (I was immediately accused of steroid use, although I tested postive only for pierogies.)

The idea to relive our youth — I'm 42 now — was my buddy's. And he hit a personal-best 69 mph a few times while hurling four rounds of three balls. Happy Birthday, Bobby Feller Jr.!

As for me, I lasted one round. My warmup toss registered 58. Entirely confident that I was loose as could be after that one lob — the first time I've touched a baseball or softball in about three years — I let 'er rip on my second throw. Sadly, the digital board registered a 66. My third and final throw wasn't even that good, and I left the park falling back on the fact that I hadn't blown up my rotator cuff.

I can run a marathon two weeks earlier. And lay 3,400 square feet of sod the previous Tuesday. But I apparently should hang up any aspirations of starring in the Disney sequel to "The Rookie."

Then again, C.C. Sabathia didn't fare much better Sunday night.

— Thomas Skernivitz, Managing Editor

'Honeymoon' Just Getting Started at Georgia Aquarium

Hopefully, you got to visit the new Georgia Aquarium during the Golf Industry Show's February stop in Atlanta. The world's biggest aquarium is quite the attraction.

If you did, you couldn't miss the two whale sharks — literally. Befitting of their home, they're the largest fish on Earth. And as of last weekend they're probably two of the happiest as well.

The aquarium just inherited two female whale sharks, Alice and Trixie, to hopefully mate with its two existing males, fellow "Honeymooners" Ralph and Norton. The sharks, which can grow up to 50 feet in length, are the only four of their kind on display outside of Asia.

The sharks' 6.2 million-gallon tank has room for two more of its kind. So as long as Ralph and Norton go "hamana-hamana-hamana-hamana"over Alice and Trixie, superintendents should find one big, happy family at the aquarium the next time the GIS comes to Atlanta.

— Thomas Skernivitz, Managing Editor