Archive for May, 2006

Did you see the Indy 500 this weekend? Yeah, neither did I. But did you see the highlights on Sportscenter? What a finish! For those of you unaware, it was the second closest finish in Indy 500 history. Sam Hornish, Jr (who sounds like he should own a poultry farm) edged out Marco Andretti (I wonder if he grew up around cars…) by .0635 of a second.

Blink.

That blink probably took longer than .0635 of a second.

If you ever want evidence of how you should never ever ever assume it’s over until it’s absolutely positively over, this is it. Hornish drafted Andretti (i.e. rode his ass) until the last possible second, then whipped around him. I half expected to see him sticking his big white ass out the window as he went by. Everything I know about racing I learned in Days of Thunder, so I’m hardly an expert, but to my untrained eye it was a sweet move.

Next time you’re in the freeway and the jackass in front of you won’t get out of your lane, give that move a shot. Keep practicing until you can do it in .0635 of a second.

And Danica? Win something, will ya?

It happened gradually. And very unexpectedly.

But I now adore the big man. Shaq Fu. The Diesel. Shaq Daddy.

I loathed Shaquille O’Neil for years. HATED him. I moved to Orlando just as Shaq made his exodus to Los Angeles.

Little did I know I’d soon follow.

The Orlando departure was ugly. U-g-l-y. As a new fan, I wasn’t surprised that the guy I claimed was just “all muscle and no talent” would take his thug self to greener pastures, leaving his fans and small city high and dry.

In my mind, he was just another jerk looking to make as much money as he could and be as famous as he could and to hell with anyone else.

Then we moved to Los Angeles.

Shaq was everywhere. And I was there too.

The charity events. The youth projects. The police man in training. The random acts of kindness-like donating police cars after they were burned in riots. I had a ball making fun of his off the wall comments. His misquotes. His rap album. His movie.

I also worked with a friend of Shaq’s, one Mr. Joe McDonnell.

I kept bad mouthing Shaq and he kept shaking his head saying “Erin, trust me..you just don’t know him.”

He’s right. I didn’t. But I was starting too. And I hated to admit it…but I liked him.

I kept that to myself for a long while, though. I still wanted to believe he was just another jerk athlete.

Then came the parade. The parade that will live in infamy at KFWB. The parade that was forever immortalized as a promo broadcast across all of Los Angeles for many, many months.

It outed me.

I was the sideline reporter in our Laker Victory parade coverage. Championship #1? Or was it #2? Both, I think. But the first one…oh sweet Jesus.

The anchors broadcasting from the stage in front of Staples Center threw it to me on the sideline as Shaq came by. Shaq said “KFWB!” And blew me a kiss. Then I said…

“Hi, Shaquille. How you doing, sweetheart?”

History was made. Promos were recorded. CNN used it. KFWB used it. They might as well have made t-shirts.

The Queen was a Shaq fan. Nationally. Locally. And I could no longer pretend I hated the jerk athlete.

It was shortly after that Shaq’s real personality started to come through in the media. The sarcasm. The joking. The goofy, lovable big man.

The Kobe story broke and I loved Shaq even more for his reaction. Here I thought Kobe was the golden, nice guy. Turns out I had it backwards all along.

Shaq left Los Angeles and I respected him. Shaq kept talking his smack and I ate it up.

So I’m going to watch my beloved Pistons play the Diesel’s team. Of course I’ll be rooting for Big Ben and crew, but if they do lose…I’ve still got reason to root come the finals.

Barry Bonds hit #715 today, passing Babe Ruth for number two on the all-time homerun list. Finally!

It will be nice to watch ESPN at night without them having to break away to Barry’s at-bat every forty-five minutes.

But now what will all the sports talking heads blather on about? Suggestions?