The Weekly Meat

The NHL Leads the Way

I never thought accountability or transparency would be words I'd use to describe how and why the National Hockey League is suddenly so successfully policing its own ranks, but there it is.

In only his first few months in office as the NHL's Senior VP of Player Safety and Hockey Operations, former player Brendan Shanahan has done one of the best jobs I've seen by an executive in any public setting. Sure, some of his success has to do with following on the heels of anemic and ham-fisted "discipline czar" Colin Campbell. But the differences between the two and their styles could not be more staggering, and I could not be any more impressed with Shanahan and his lieutenants Rob Blake and Stephane Quintal.

The three other major sports leagues should take notice and learn some real lessons from the NHL on this. Further, all companies, public and private, big and small, could stand to do the same.

Under Shanahan — among other things — punishable on-ice acts are now reviewed (first independently, by him and his small cadre of associates, then discussed, and a consensus reached) and a decision is made regarding further disciplinary action. Standard operating procedure. But then the video decision/evidence is posted on NHL.com for all to see. And Shanahan (or at least his Twitter account) sends a pointer to said video.

Simple, transparent, fair. Both the season and Shanahan's tenure are still young, so we'll see how well this all works as a deterrent over the long haul. But, it would seem that suspensions without pay are still the most effective means of keeping headhunting and unnecessary thuggery at bay, thereby keeping players safer. And increasing player safety (not simply discipline) as Shanahan's new title implies, should indeed be the core competency of the position.

Say what you like about fighting in the NHL, it's old news; what has fans, players, the media talking now is the irrefutable fact that hockey, like football, has a concussion problem. And it's not going to solve itself.

In the NHL, the problem is three-fold:

• The players are bigger, stronger, faster.
• Their "padding" is now made of hard plastic, and feels like armor when you get hit with it.
• Recent rule changes (like doing away with the red line) instituted to usher out the "dead-puck era" of boring, defensive, trapping teams has had the unintended consequence of creating more possibilities of high-velocity open-ice hits, as players zip across the ice for stretch passes.

Enter Shanahan. His role is one that others have held, all with varying degrees of minimal effectiveness. But no one of Shanahan's stature has ever taken on the job, and no one — it would seem — has embraced it as seriously or successfully.

Among any new executive's first decisions, whom to hire is often the most important. And in hiring Rob Blake and Stephane Quintal, Shanahan made some very astute choices. Among them, Shanny, Blake, and Quintal have roughly 4,200 total games of NHL experience — not to mention nearly 6,000 penalty minutes. So they've been there, seen, and done nearly everything that comes across their desks.

One mark of a good executive is the ability to adapt techniques from industries outside their own. In this regard, Shanahan and company have seemingly taken a page from Jon Stewart's Daily Show playbook, where we have all seen precisely how effective and skewering a well indexed video library can be. The NHL's concise and informative suspension videos are must-see viewing for not just hockey fans, players, coaches, and referees, but for judges, leaders, and corporate executives as well. Take, for example, the following:

 

Shanahan himself speaks, emotionless and objective, delivering the key information, the evidence, history (past transgressions/suspensions), end result (was the affected player injured), and his decision. In this era of constant buck-passing, Shanahan's openness is not just refreshing, it's remarkable and admirable. And his office — and the NHL — is making the right calls on these infractions. They are actually making the game both better and safer.

I am not a Shanny fan-boy. He was an excitable, emotional player; I hated him early on with the Devils, was indifferent to him on the Blues, but by the time he moved onto the Red Wings, I had to respect the guy and what he continued to do each season. Nor have I ever been a big supporter of the league offices. NHL commish Gary Bettman is basically Bud Selig in David Stern's clothing.

But as a middle-aged guy myself — forever wrestling with thoughts of a career makeover — what I have been most impressed with is this guy's ability to go from an incredibly gifted and determined player with a distinguished career (he ranks 12th or 13th overall in goals scored and 25th overall in total points, and won three Stanley Cups) to an exceptional off-ice executive (same industry, but still) in just a few short years (he last played in the 2008–09 season).

No one is really writing about this yet. But they should. This is how pro sports leagues should operate. Players — not just star players — should not only be revered and marketed, but protected. Not simply by their unions during contract negotiations, but during the season, by their teams, and by the league itself.

And it is precisely this sort of transparency and accountability that the other sports leagues need most right now. Picture baseball dealing with steroids in a similar manner. Or professional cycling cleaning up its doping act. We might actually lose the bulked-up automatons and the cynicism they engender. And we fans might actually care again.

Well done, Shanny. Keep it up.

Joe's Gym

If you somehow missed the news, Smokin' Joe Frazier died earlier this month of liver cancer. Better writers than I have shared great words over his passing. But I'll try a few. Because he deserved the love. --BK

 

I met Joe Frazier 20 years ago at his gym, up in Olney. I was an assistant editor for a small local paper. We were doing a story on his daughter, Jackie Frazier-Lyde, and needed to take some photos to run with the piece. Jackie asked if I wanted to just meet her at Joe's gym.

Damn right I did.

I hit my stride as a boxing fan during the golden age of the mid-'70s, when Smokin' Joe (and the rest of the heavyweight division) were in their glory years. Muhammad Ali, Ken Norton, George Foreman, Joe Frazier.

Boxing — and especially boxing during that era — was everything I was not. It was big, tough as nails, skilled, black, and badass. The only thing Joe Frazier and I had in common was Philadelphia, and our relative shortness.

To this day, I love boxing. Given a few hours to myself, I'm happy as a pig in shit watching old bouts on ESPN Classic. (I have my favorites: the Ali-Fraziers, the Ali-Foremans, the Pryor-Arguellos, and on.) I have a speed bag in my art studio that I bang on — ticketa ticketa ticketa, ticketa ticketa ticketa — and I get the same sort of contact high from playing ice hockey as many do from boxing. From hitting and being hit.

But boxing also scares the crap out of me the way, say, prison scares the crap out of me. Outside of hockey scuffles, I've never really been in a fight. I have no training, and I like to think I might make a decent showing sparring with someone else my height and weight who is equally untrained. But I fear that wouldn't be the case, and the fact is I've never been tested against that fear. One on one. In the ring.

 

Joe Frazier's Gym was in a tough section of Olney, which at the time was one of the most grim sections of Philly. It was the sort of neighborhood (think The Wire) that no longer exists in many cities. On the subway ride up there, I removed the silver chain around my neck, cursed my oxford work shirt as I rolled up its sleeves, and untucked it. I put my glasses in my pocket, and loosened my walk. I was suburban, but streetwise, now living in the city, with empty crack vials at my bus stop in those days — but you simply did not fuck with Olney.

Even as a layman fan, I could see that Joe Frazier was difficult to fight. He was short, awkward, constantly bobbing, attacking from odd angles. He hooked quickly and hard. And he was relentless.

In person, outside the ring, he came off as a warm, personable guy. Jackie introduced me to Joe in his office, and to his son Marvis (who had the misfortune of meeting Mike Tyson at the peak of his powers), and he couldn't have been nicer or more welcoming to a wide-eyed suburban white kid with a Nikon in his bag.

 

Daughter Jackie asked where we should shoot. I was all of 22 years old, and not a professional photographer, but I wasn't stupid. We were at Joe's gym; I asked if we could hop in the ring.

Even with a stylish lady lawyer as my non-opponent (though she later cashed in on the women's boxing boom and went toe to toe with Laila Ali), it was a thrill simply to step through the ropes and into the ring.

It was the only time I've ever set foot in a ring — or even in a boxing gym — and I hold that memory, that feeling, dear. The ring — any ring — is sacred space, reserved for men (and women!) with the stones to enter. Because the risk of domination is terrifying, and boxing is as much a battle of mental acuity as it is one of physical acumen. Outside of war, the toughest thing anyone can do is to step into that square for the first time and put on the gloves — often against a bigger, stronger opponent. (And for that, I have great respect for Marvis Frazier as well.)

Behind Jackie in the picture at right is a framed print of Joe, touching gloves with Ali.

 

Joe was the first man to beat Muhammad Ali (in the "Fight of the Century" at Madison Square Garden). They fought twice more during their careers, and though I liked Ali during his day, Ali never gave Joe the respect he deserved. His taunting before their bout in Manila was downright vicious colorism. Their 41 rounds together left each forever broken in his own way, and their final bout was possibly the most brutal match ever, with arguably neither fighter physically able to continue into the 15th round.

Smokin' Joe effectively retired in 1976 with a record of 32-4, having never lost to anyone not named Ali or (the much bigger) Foreman. He came back five years later and logged a draw before hanging up his gloves for good, but for nearly a decade, he was the baddest man on the block.

But what a good bad man he was.

Godspeed, Joe. Rest in peace.

Kentucky Derby 137

This Saturday afternoon we all get to turn on our TVs and hear Stephen Foster's classic "My Old Kentucky Home" sung thousands of times worse than this Gordon Gano rendition (best I've ever heard; well worth a listen). As for the horses, well, most of this year's field looks like something you might buy from Walmart.

Still, I'll tune in, because I will watch a horserace anytime, anywhere. And this is the daddy of them all.

Anything can happen at Churchill Downs on the first Saturday of May, so anyone who tells you they know what will happen this Saturday is off their nut. Excepting, of course, bold general-interest bloggers presently marinating in equal parts Daily Racing Form and Kentucky bourbon.

Official post positions have been announced, and this year, only one thing is for sure — Calvin Borel cannot possibly win this thing again.

As has been the case in recent years, the field consists of at least a half dozen with absolutely no business being here (mind you, just such a nag actually won the damn thing two years back at 50-1), a half dozen talented enough contenders, and a few so-so stretch runners hoping to get lucky. There is nothing close to super-horse this year, no one with a chance at the Triple Crown.

Below are the few horses with a legit shot to win:

I see a lot to like in the redundantly-named ARCHARCHARCH. The horse is a talented gamer, peaking at exactly the right time, and the sort of horse I love to pick: in the top five, but not the top two (so nicer betting odds), good speed with some ability to close, decent breeding, and has shown steady improvement over increasing distance.Can he overcome a post position on the rail against a crowded field? We'll see. More surprising things have certainly happened in the Derby.

 

I also like — despite my innate distrust of horses with long, shitty names — MUCHO MACHO MAN. He's well raced, has consistent and decent speed, a good post position, and should be able to handle the mile and a quarter distance.

 

 

As for the would-be favorites, UNCLE MO has class, real speed, and has four wins and a show in five starts. But he's fighting an infection and is questionable for Saturday. Questionable is not what we want.

So... DIALED IN will be the clear betting favorite, with, to my mind, a story similar to that of Uncle Mo, above. He could win with only four previous starts, and it wouldn't shock me if he did, but I wouldn't bet him at odds less than 4-1, and I just don't see him winning in this big field.

Some smart handicapping money will be plunked down on SOLDAT (and less-smart money on NEHRO), and he may well overcome his bad last race, but I can't get excited about him.

Where's that leave me?

Well, hell, I'll simplify things this year. It's a historically meh field and a crapshoot race. Screw the exotic wagers, I'll take ARCHARCHARCH at decent enough odds and on the nose.

If you want to pick a longshot to root for, take COMMA TO THE TOP.

There it is, people. Tune in this Saturday on NBC from 5:00 on (post time is ~6:20 EDT). And remember to make your simple syrup early enough to chill it before mixing those Mint Juleps.

 

*The Daily Racing Form, America's Turf Authority since 1894, neither endorses nor is affiliated in any way with the views and ramblings of BK, America's Dirt Authority Since 1968.

Copa Mundial 2010: The Talent Pool Runneth Over

Whether the United States will ever fully embrace soccer as a national sport remains to be seen. Will we ever win the World Cup? Probably. Someday. We have a good squad this year that I'll actively root for (hell, they've even got a legit shot to win their group), but the truth is I won't watch TV for the next month to watch the US team. I'll watch World Cup soccer to watch the rest of the world.

The reason is simple. It’s exciting to watch the best of the best ply their craft—whether we’re watching the baseball all-star game, or a stunt pilot, or a world class chef  work the kitchen—and there is no other sport, or even occupation, with such an extremely deep talent pool as World Cup soccer.

It’s still difficult for us to appreciate in the U.S., but nearly every other country in the world plays soccer, and soccer exclusively. They play it early and often, and they play it well. Some play to escape their surroundings, some play chasing fame and fortune, some play, as Willie Mays did, “to love the game.” But all play.

Contrast this with, say, basketball, which, despite its recent growth worldwide, still has a remarkably small pool of elite talent. The U.S. arguably has the deepest pool in the sport, but basketball is not even close to being the most popular sport in the U.S. So imagine if, essentially, there were no other sports for basketball to compete with. Boys and girls would come out of the womb dribbling, shooting, and scrimmaging against tough competition as opposed to shooting baskets alone at the park. The U.S. would have dozens more players the caliber of Kobe Bryant and Dwayne Wade—and more than a single pro league of note.

Next, imagine that the rest of the world’s basketball skills were equal to or near the level of the U.S.’s. The NBA would be only one of the leagues worth playing in. This is the reality of soccer. Though, alas, the U.S. is not the yard stick to which others measure their skills. That distinction may forever belong to Brazil.

Forget about any major league team sport in the U.S. In every case, league expansion has led the product they feed us to be as watered-down as a light beer they serve us in their overpriced stadium cups. There simply isn't the talent to support a better product. But for soccer.

So that is why I'll watch when the quadrennial Copa Mundial fiesta starts tomorrow morning with a tilt between Mexico and host South Africa. This year all of the games will be broadcast on ESPN, but the fact is that over the years, I have come to enjoy watching the World Cup on Spanish-speaking “Univision,” or at the Irish pub, listening to the accented, or non-English, crowd. (“Who do you like in Tuesday’s match there, Patsy?” “Reckon I fancy the Dutch. And yourself?”) Regardless, the games will be on for the next month; sit down and check it out for a bit. If you think it's the slightest bit boring, you clearly have not seen a Major League Baseball game lately (and hey, a soccer broadcast is a good two hours shorter than a baseball game). The guys in the yellow jerseys are from Brazil, and they play the joga bonito more fluidly than most of us walk, talk, or simply breathe.

Kentucky Derby 136

Anything can happen at Churchill Downs on the first Saturday of May, so anyone who tells you they know what will happen this Saturday is off their nut. Excepting, of course, bold general-interest bloggers presently marinating in equal parts Daily Racing Form and Kentucky bourbon.

Ahem. Herewith...

Official post positions have been announced, and this year, those positions may well have wrecked the damn thing before the gates even open. Parimutuel-wise, this race is a two-horse shindig, with LOOKIN AT LUCKY the favorite by a half-length over SIDNEY'S CANDY.

They are both good horses and deserving favorites, each capable of winning this thing despite the starting position each drew — the far inside and the far outside, respectively.

This year's race should set up fairly typical of recent Derbys — with a full 20-horse field on tap: a half dozen with no business being here (mind you, just such a horse actually won the damn thing last year at 50-1), a half dozen talented contenders, a few early speed demons hoping to get lucky, and a few stretch runners hoping to get lucky.

Below are the four horses I see as having a legitimate shot to win:

Despite the fact that he has not yet shown a Beyer speed figure of a typical Derby favorite, it's hard to find much wrong with LOOKIN AT LUCKY. The horse is a bona fide, seasoned gamer who in eight races has six wins and has never finished worse than second. I like this horse for obvious reasons — and so do millions of other folks out there — but favorites lose the Derby far more often than not. So to pick or not to pick?

 

ICE BOX is my kind of Derby horse. In the top five, but not the top two (so nicer betting odds), he has good speed with some ability to close, decent breeding, and has shown steady improvement over increasing distance. If he's sharp after some extra time off, this could be his race. That said, I also like his stable-mate JACKSON BEND at longer odds. He's a gamer too, with a record similar to Lookin At Lucky but possibly with more speed. If he can make the distance, he'll be in the money, or close enough to smell it.

 

"Coffee," it is said "is for closers." AWESOME ACT is a closer — a stretch runner expected to go the distance. With rain expected Saturday, my question is whether this horse can handle a wet track, and will still have the stones for a late run with slop in his face.

 

SIDNEY'S CANDY has four wins and a place in six career starts, with a single bad race out of the money. He has the tactical speed to win. Enough to come from the far outside 20 post and win? Big Brown did it a few years ago, when I didn't think it possible to make up that much ground, so it is possible. But I don't like his chances to actually win.

 

My superfecta, based on current weather forecasts:

1. ICE BOX
2. LOOKIN AT LUCKY
3. SIDNEY'S CANDY
4. JACKSON BEND

There it is, people. Tune in this Saturday on NBC from 5:00 on (post time is 6:24). And remember to make your simple syrup early enough to chill it before mixing those Mint Juleps.

*The Daily Racing Form, America's Turf Authority since 1894, neither endorses nor is affiliated in any way with the views and ramblings of BK, America's Dirt Authority Since 1968.

Anything can happen at Churchill Downs on the first Saturday of May, so anyone who tells you they know what will happen this Saturday is off their nut. Excepting, of course, bold general-interest bloggers presently marinating in equal parts Daily Racing Form and Kentucky bourbon.

They are both good horses and deserving favorites, each capable of winning this thing despite the starting position each drew — the far inside and the far outside, respectively.

This year's race should set up fairly typical of recent Derbys — with a full 20-horse field on tap: a half dozen with no business being here (mind you, just such a horse actually won the damn thing last year at 50-1), a half dozen talented contenders, a few early speed demons hoping to get lucky, and a few stretch runners hoping to get lucky.

Below are the four horses I see as having a legitimate shot to win:

Despite the fact that he has not yet shown a Beyer speed figure of a typical Derby favorite, it's hard to find much wrong with LOOKIN AT LUCKY. The horse is a bona fide, seasoned gamer who in eight races has six wins and has never finished worse than second. I like this horse for obvious reasons — and so do millions of other folks out there — but favorites lose the Derby far more often than not. So to pick or not to pick?

 

ICE BOX is my kind of Derby horse. In the top five, but not the top two (so nicer betting odds), he has good speed with some ability to close, decent breeding, and has shown steady improvement over increasing distance. If he's sharp after some extra time off, this could be his race. That said, I also like his stable-mate JACKSON BEND at longer odds. He's a gamer too, with a record similar to Lookin At Lucky but possibly with more speed. If he can make the distance, he'll be in the money, or close enough to smell it.

 

"Coffee," it is said "is for closers." AWESOME ACT is a closer — a stretch runner expected to go the distance. With rain expected Saturday, my question is whether this horse can handle a wet track, and will still have the stones for a late run with slop in his face.

SIDNEY'S CANDY has four wins and a place in six career starts, with a single bad race out of the money. He has the tactical speed to win. Enough to come from the far outside 20 post and win? Big Brown did it a few years ago, when I didn't think it possible to make up that much ground, so it is possible. But I don't like his chances to actually win.

 

My superfecta, based on current weather forecasts:

1. ICE BOX
2. LOOKIN AT LUCKY
3. SIDNEY'S CANDY
4. JACKSON BEND

Next Saturday

Regular readers of this space will recognize that the First Saturday in May is nigh. Rest assured the bourbon drinking and handicapping have begun. Come on back next week for my Kentucky Derby picks.

Between now and then, move this to the top of your Netflix cue to prime the pump. It's a well-done flick — with a surprisingly good soundtrack (among other things, Gordon Gano of the Violent Femmes doing the best version of "My Old Kentucky Home" you'll ever hear).

Running

Call it a mid-life crisis, but recently I decided to take up running seriously for the first time in my life. I've run before, on and off, but never more than once or twice a week. Still, I like it when I do it, and I've toyed with the idea of someday actually training for something.

I live in Boston, so there is always, of course, a big hairy elephant in the room. But there is really no single thing I can think of that I would want to do for what, realistically, would be no less than four hours. And so, I've always thought more toward a nice half-marathon.

Well, two months ago, a friend called my bluff and gave me a choice of three local races in October. Fear of actually doing one of them has kept me running consistently ever since.

I've built up to three to four days a week of increasing speed and distance. I was reasonably in shape to begin with — that is to say for a semi-athletic-yet-out-of-shape guy who, previously, had only been playing hockey once a week and running once every other week. OK, so now I'm actually in shape again. But 13.1 miles is nothing to sneeze at.

I've never really run more than 10k (6.2 miles) at a time. Also, even at 40, I'm not real patient. I'm not really willing to run a painfully slow pace that I can keep up all day. I tend to be more a charge-out-in-a-blaze-of-glory-and-see-how-long-I-can-maintain-it kind of guy.

Eight years ago, I ran a great 10k race. It was my first organized road race, with a decent-sized field. I went with my wife and mother-in-law, who were also running. But we got separated prior to the start, and what I didn't quite realize, as I jockeyed my way toward the front before the gun, was that — and this will be absurdly obvious to anyone who runs seriously — they stage folks beforehand according to their projected pace. Needless to say, I was about 30 feet behind the Kenyans with no hope in hell of running a mile pace even remotely within two to three minutes of theirs. Also needless to say, I started out blazingly fast, mostly in a desperate effort to not be trampled by the stampeding horde.

I ran my first mile in something crazy fast (for me) — 7:10, if I remember right — before settling into a more sustainable rhythm. But I was already doing the math in my head, and I knew I had a real chance of pretty much shattering the goal I had set for myself. And I did, winding up averaging 8:30 miles and finishing in 52:45.

It was a bit of a fluke, but a cool discovery in finding the edges of my limits, based on a beginner's mistake at the start, and race-day adrenaline.

But more than twice that distance? It's something that gives me pause. My goal would be to finish a half marathon, but it would also be to do so in two hours (a ~9:00/mile pace).

My lungs are in good shape; I've never smoked, and not much within reason gets my breathing too hard. But my legs are another story. I'm in hockey shape (I'd much rather skate the 13.1 miles), but I'm learning that running consistently is really demanding on the backs of your legs — the calves and hamstrings, and that if I don't in turn actually stretch my hamstrings after running, I'll feel it (the old hockey injury, that is) in my back.

Most normal people would go about this sudden-onset running thing by getting a physical, diligently researching training methods, and setting a schedule. I began, of course, by taking a hard look at my iPod, and deciding that I would need to spend some time scientifically crafting several training playlists. I chose songs with unchanging tempo and a steady backbeat that I could use as a kind of cadence. Next, I divided up those songs among playlists, based on the pace I wanted to run: slower 10-minute miles, 9-minute miles, and faster sub-9s. THEN, I researched training schedules.

Of course — truth be told, and despite the fact that my greatest distance running fears are of chafing and of shitting myself — I have spent far more time on the iPod playlists than I have reading up on the latest advice for novice runners.

But, hell, the title of this post is "Running," not "Training." Maybe that's me fooling myself; maybe I really haven't made up my mind yet about racing. As a mid-life crisis activity though, running is way cheaper, and so far, despite the chafing (I never really thought of male nipples much until a sweat-soaked shirt rubbed one of mine raw) has caused me less pain than any mid-life crisis hobby most guys would pursue.

And if it turns out to be a lifestyle choice based on a fear bigger than that of running a long race — that of growing old too quickly (OK, let's call a spade a spade: death) — then maybe that fear will keep me running for even longer than it would if I were training for the experience of a singular distance race.

In either case, wish me luck.

Kentucky Derby 135

Anything can happen at Churchill Downs on the first Saturday of May, so anyone who tells you they know what will happen this Saturday is off their nut.

Official post positions have been announced, and this year, they won't much dissuade anyone from picking whomever they liked before the draw. Parimutuel-wise, this thing is a four-horse race, with I WANT REVENGE installed as the early favorite.

But there is real depth this year in the tier of horses just below the top four, and that is where betting bargains — and the possible winner — can be found and money made at longer odds.

Uh.... So, off my nut or not, here's what I think:

I don't see this year's race setting up in a particular way — as can happen when there are a few early rabbits in the field, or especially good or bad post positions for the favorites — just a tangle of talented colts in the middle of the field as they hit the first turn.

Below are the four horses who are well-deserved favorites and who have a clear and legitimate shot to win:

I'm torn. I WANT REVENGE is trained by a doping scumbag, which makes it difficult to determine whether he's a burgeoning superhorse (his come-from-behind win in the Wood Memorial was a thing of beauty) and Triple Crown threat, or just another juicer. He has arguably the best speed in the race, is a gamer who has never been out of the money, and turned in a lickety-split workout Tuesday. I like this horse a lot. But I don't feel good about it.

PIONEEROF THE NILE cannot be blamed for the design abomination of colors that are his owner's silks. He'll be ridden by one of the best jockeys in the business, runs beautifully, and likes to win. Still, he's been running on a synthetic surface, not real dirt, like at Churchill Downs, and doesn't necessarily have the speed to keep up in this race.

FRIESAN'S FIRE is running well, has speed, is improving, can stalk the lead from mid-pack, and likes running in the slop. To win this thing, he'll have to gut it out at a longer distance than he's seen, but if it rains as much as is predicted in the next few days, this is your horse — and mine.

DUNKIRK has speed, excellent pedigree, a winning trainer, a winning jockey, and looks to be peaking at just the right time. But he has raced only three times, so who knows what we'll get. My grandmother, who always bet the gray horse, will surely be watching Dunkirk closely on the big TV in the sky, and I cannot discount Grandmom's chances.

In addition to those four, there are a few second-tier hopefuls worth a close look. If you want to bet a longshot to be in the money, all those under 25– 30–1 have a chance. No horse with odds longer than that has a shot in hell. Of the rest, the ones I like are MUSKET MAN (if you're a fan of the stout, this nag drinks a Guinness a day with his feed), CHOCOLATE CANDY, PAPA CLEM, and GENERAL QUARTERS.

My superfecta, based on current weather forecasts:

1. FRIESAN'S FIRE
2. MUSKET MAN
3. I WANT REVENGE
4. CHOCOLATE CANDY

There it is, people. Be a damn nice payout if it hits.

Watch it for yourself, Saturday @ 6:00 PM EDT on NBC. And remember: Make your simple syrup early enough to chill it before mixing those Mint Juleps.

POST-RACE EDITORIAL:

I stand corrected. No handicapper in his right mind saw a damn thing in that horse. But occasionally, past performance does not in any way correspond to one's performance on any given Saturday...

He showed us. And mercy, but what a race.

*The Daily Racing Form, America's Turf Authority since 1894, neither endorses nor is affiliated in any way with the views and ramblings of BK, America's Dirt Authority Since 1968.

Anything can happen at Churchill Downs on the first Saturday of May, so anyone who tells you they know what will happen this Saturday is off their nut.

Official post positions have been announced, and this year, they won't much dissuade anyone from picking whomever they liked before the draw. Parimutuel-wise, this thing is a four-horse race, with I WANT REVENGE installed as the early favorite.

But there is real depth this year in the tier of horses just below the top four, and that is where betting bargains — and the possible winner — can be found and money made at longer odds.

Uh.... So, off my nut or not, here's what I think:

I don't see this year's race setting up in a particular way — as can happen when there are a few early rabbits in the field, or especially good or bad post positions for the favorites — just a tangle of talented colts in the middle of the field as they hit the first turn.

Below are the four horses who are well-deserved favorites and who have a clear and legitimate shot to win:

I'm torn. I WANT REVENGE is trained by a doping scumbag, which makes it difficult to determine whether he's a burgeoning superhorse (his come-from-behind win in the Wood Memorial was a thing of beauty) and Triple Crown threat, or just another juicer. He has arguably the best speed in the race, is a gamer who has never been out of the money, and turned in a lickety-split workout Tuesday. I like this horse a lot. But I don't feel good about it.

PIONEEROF THE NILE cannot be blamed for the design abomination of colors that are his owner's silks. He'll be ridden by one of the best jockeys in the business, runs beautifully, and likes to win. Still, he's been running on a synthetic surface, not real dirt, like at Churchill Downs, and doesn't necessarily have the speed to keep up in this race.

FRIESAN'S FIRE is running well, has speed, is improving, can stalk the lead from mid-pack, and likes running in the slop. To win this thing, he'll have to gut it out at a longer distance than he's seen, but if it rains as much as is predicted in the next few days, this is your horse — and mine.

DUNKIRK has speed, excellent pedigree, a winning trainer, a winning jockey, and looks to be peaking at just the right time. But he has raced only three times, so who knows what we'll get. My grandmother, who always bet the gray horse, will surely be watching Dunkirk closely on the big TV in the sky, and I cannot discount Grandmom's chances.

In addition to those four, there are a few second-tier hopefuls worth a close look. If you want to bet a longshot to be in the money, all those under 25– 30–1 have a chance. No horse with odds longer than that has a shot in hell. Of the rest, the ones I like are MUSKET MAN (if you're a fan of the stout, this nag drinks a Guinness a day with his feed), CHOCOLATE CANDY, PAPA CLEM, and GENERAL QUARTERS.

My superfecta, based on current weather forecasts:

1. FRIESAN'S FIRE
2. MUSKET MAN
3. I WANT REVENGE
4. CHOCOLATE CANDY

There it is, people. Be a damn nice payout if it hits.

Watch it for yourself, Saturday @ 6:00 PM EDT on NBC. And remember: Make your simple syrup early enough to chill it before mixing those Mint Juleps.

POST-RACE EDITORIAL:

I stand corrected. No handicapper in his right mind saw a damn thing in that horse. But occasionally, past performance does not in any way correspond to one's performance on any given Saturday...

He showed us. And mercy, but what a race.

*The Daily Racing Form, America's Turf Authority since 1894, neither endorses nor is affiliated in any way with the views and ramblings of BK, America's Dirt Authority Since 1968.

True Sport

As we near the start of the 2008 Summer Olympics, we must give propers where propers are due. In recent years, U.S. women have cornered the market on Olympic gold in each of the major team sports: softball, basketball, soccer, and ice hockey. And they have done so with discipline, teamwork, grit, and class that has all but eluded their male counterparts.

Admittedly, some of their drive, and subsequent success on the world stage, is due in part to the fact that, sadly, they have few other stages on which to compete. With the exception of basketball (and to a lesser extent, softball), these women have little chance for professional competition.

Perhaps because of that (rather than in spite of it) the women seem to have more fun playing the games they love, appreciate the concept of a team, enjoy playing for one, and are grateful for the Olympic opportunity to prove their mettle against the world's best. We'll continue to have our obligatory men's "dream" teams with their oversized wallets and matching egos, but for my money I'd rather watch the women. And I don't mean that in a beach volleyball sort of way. (Oh, but bless your honed glutes, Misty....)

Whereas a guy like, say, Shaquille O'Neill has nothing in common with anyone I've ever met (he's a 7'2" 300-pound multi-jillionaire comic book superhero), I can relate to the women. They're human. They'll leave the Olympics and return to their everyday lives and, yes, day jobs.

Further, in our recent cases of team gold, the women were able to accomplish what they did because they all understood their roles on their respective teams. And let's face it, few of us get the chance in life to be anything but role players.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not looking to toss off misogynistic backhanded compliments or to oversimplify the issues. And I don't think for a minute I could touch any of that insanely nasty softball pitching — or, admittedly, even stand in there against it.

I do still love watching men's sports. I'll never give up the speed and checking and the fights of professional hockey. And there may never be another victory as momentous as 1980s "miracle on ice."

But like that tightly knit and focused men's team in Lake Placid, who became media darlings because they were untainted and believed in the world, and in themselves, their teammates, and their goal, so too do these women's teams epitomize all that is good in sport. They take us back to when we were young, when backyard sports were all we had; a time when we, like Willie Mays, "played to love the game."

For that, the ladies should be championed and honored. It's wishful thinking, of course, that — up against America's golden boy swimmer, or even his much discussed new Speedo — they might, as a team, win the covers of our weekly magazines as well as medals, but they deserve it.

The sneaker and sports drink ads are right, these women are breaking ground for new leagues that may well give them equal opportunities to earn a living having as much fun as the guys — and giving our daughters cause to dream.

So when the olympics start next week, give the women some of your time. We could see medals for our basketball, softball, and soccer teams. This is an extended golden age for U.S. women's team sports. Game on.

Kentucky Derby 134

Anything can happen at Churchill Downs on the first Saturday of May, and anyone who tells you they know what will happen this Saturday in particular is off their rocker.

There's not a ton of speed in this year's race, with only seven horses ever running Beyer speed figures of 100 or better, and only three of those (Pyro, Gayego, and Big Brown) able to do so more than once.

Yesterday morning, I'd have considered those three horses as the contenders, with Big Brown as the early betting favorite, but the post positions have been announced, and this year, they wreck this thing for the handicappers.

Uh.... So, off my rocker or not, here's what's gonna happen:

BIG BROWN will break from the far outside of the auxiliary gate, and will have a lot of ground to make up to get himself into the good early positioning he seems to like. With nearly all of the early speed in the race breaking from far outside posts, I can't see this thing being won by anyone at the front of the pack early on, unless BB is indeed the second coming of Secretariat that his trainer claims him to be.

BB is a fascinating puzzle, in that he's very lightly raced, but has very real speed, and has won all three of his starts. Will he win? I highly doubt it. He'd turn out to be an incredibly exciting horse to watch if he did, but he'd be overcoming his inexperience and his post position to do so.

I might have liked GAYEGO, but not from the 19 post, sandwiched between BB and RECAPTURETHEGLORY, who has early speed to burn.

PYRO will be the darling of a lot of folks willing to toss out his last race, as he'd been rocking steady until then. But I can't ignore his slow workouts. It could all be an aberration, and he has both the speed and the running style to win it, I just don't think he will.

Two horses I do like:

As a longshot, EIGHT BELLES is a filly with good pedigree and decent speed. She's won her last four starts, and has turned in some lickety-split workouts recently. To win this thing, she'll have to be one tough chick, running with the boys for the first time, overcoming a much bigger crowd than she's ever seen, and running late. I'd love to see her do it. Is that just me wanting to give a girl a chance? Maybe. But at high odds, she's worth a bet to be in the money.

COLONEL JOHN is a solid horse on paper, is breaking from a good middle post, and will surely see his odds drop even lower by post time. He's coming off a couple of wins, has never finished worse than second in six starts, and has very impressive recent workout numbers. If I've got to pick one horse to win it, he's my nag.

There it is, people. Be sure to make your simple syrup early enough to chill it before mixing a tasty Mint Julep. And if your feeling particularly thirsty gluttonous patriotic, accept this as a challenge.

*The Daily Racing Form, America's Turf Authority since 1894, neither endorses nor is affiliated in any way with the views and ramblings of BK, America's Dirt Authority Since 1968.