Aside from being the player who Philly currently most loves to hate (no offense Pat Burrell), T.O.’s name is of relevance because Trotter’s firing (and let’s face it, generous parting words from Andy Reid aside, that is what it was) brings to light an ugly truth for NFL players of the modern era – there’s no such thing as guaranteed money.

Come with me in the way back machine to a not so distant August of 2005. The “Iggles” are coming off a Superbowl loss and the city is abuzz about how the team and its star QB and WR will bounce back. “Was McNabb really hacking up chunky soup in the huddle?” “Will this be the year Andy fields an entire squad of fat linemen?” The questions were endless and the possibilities mind-numbing.Into this foray of 2005 NFL off-season nonsense stepped everyone’s favorite anti-hero Terrell (alternatively “Tare-ull” and “Tare-el” depending on the year) Owens. After a spectacularly entertaining display of front yard ab exercises, Mr. Owens “throws McNabb under a bus” (thus lending national credence to an already annoying phrase), gets himself kicked out of practice and clubs baby seals at the Philadelphia Zoo. And you thought Ron Mexico was a jerk. To add insult to incredibly hysterical “injury,” Owens then has the stones to suggest that perhaps he needs a new contract.

It was the last of those missteps that served as the proverbial straw that broke the fighting pit-bull’s back. “A new contract? But this is Philadelphia! This is a “blue collar town” where everyone works in a union, lives in Sout’ Philly and eats cheese steaks for breakfast. What kinda millionaire jerk can stand up and say he’s not making enough money when he’s only one year into his old contract? What kinda bum does dis T.O. guy tink he is? You wouldn’t see Rocky pulling that shit!”

And so went the 2005 Eagles season…straight down the drain. T.O. became public enemy number 1 in Philadelphia, as even the casual fan would learn to hate him for trying to “get out of his contract.” Sure, D-Chunky and T.O. awkwardly co-existed for a few games, but then D-Chunky’s prosthetic leg fell off, T.O. got into a fistacuffs with the Eagles dance team and Andy Reid got so stark-raving mad about the whole thing that he started raising his voice when his kids waived guns at him.

Back to the present – what have we learned with two years of wisdom? Simply this…T.O. was right. Lost amid the circus of the lawn exercises and ridiculous press conferences of T.O. the lunatic was the fact that T.O. the player was standing up for the only person that the team didn’t have to answer to, or care about, in the long run…himself.

NFL contracts are complicated, incentive laden and often times quite lucrative. They are not guaranteed. Ask Jeremiah Trotter. For that matter, ask Bobby Taylor, Troy Vincent, Hugh Douglas, Duce Staley, or any of the other of a host of players that the Birds have unceremoniously axed in the past. Sure, a player can make alot of money for playing a game that you would “play for free,” but you can’t play – they can.

Basic economics dictates that teams can only offer ridiculously high salaries because they charge ridiculously high ticket prices and enter into ridiculously lucrative television deals. Dan Snyder fields a losing team almost every year – but he’s not losing money. Put yourself in the player’s position, or them in yours, would you take a “hometown discount” for the benefit of your accounting firm? Would you turn down a job offering triple your H.R. Management salary because you “already signed a contract”? Now imagine if you only had the ability to work 8-10 years – wouldn’t you want to make as much money as possible in that time period?

This is not to say that NFL players have tremendous financial responsibilities. Though it is understandably hard to maintain and upkeep 10 cars and provide housing and salary for your entire extended family while still “making it rain” each week at the local gentlemen’s club, NFL players simply do not live normal lives. That does not mean they should stand by and let their teams take advantage of them. The Eagles’ actions are merely indicative of the attitude demonstrated by teams across the league – players are interchangeable and they will be interchanged. While we can’t weep for the financial suffering of the players, we should be able to understand their desire to stick up for themselves…and to make as much as they can while they can still get paid. You would do the same.

Until next time – it’s time for Tuesday night dogfights at STH Headquarters. Don’t worry, we only cut the losers…

10. Rosie O’Donnell: The first name to be raised in many media formats, Rosie fits the bill in many ways as she (1) is currently unemployed, (2) has a built-in daytime audience, and (3) seems to be interested in the gig. Unfortunately she is also constantly overbearing and consistently unlikeable. Thumbs DOWN.

9. Regis Philbin: If anyone can claim to rival Bob Barker’s record run on daytime television, it is Mr. Kathy-Lee himself. Regis might be getting a little old for double duty, but you know he would go wild for those random kisses from the audience. He’s loud, he’s obnoxious and he probably wouldn’t take the job. That, coupled with his love for Notre Dame gets Regis a Thumbs DOWN.

8. John Madden: Now we’re talking. If there was anyone who is ready for a change of pace, it’s Madden. For anyone who tuned into Sunday Night Football last season, it was impossible not to notice Madden’s incoherent, incessant rambling growing increasingly more incoherent…and incessant…as the games dragged on. One can only spout so many “boom”s and “bam”s before the well runs dry. Given the tired nature of his act, what could be better for Madden’s career then a complete change of scenery? Can you imagine the witty insight that Madden might provide on the price of Tylenol? Thumbs WAY UP (and that’s without even discussing the awesome new line of video games).

7. Oprah: She seems to have dominated every other aspect of television, so why not give the Queen of Talk a shot at the game show genre? While the ramifications of the built-in audience would be impossible to deny, it’s doubtful Oprah would be able to break away from talking about herself and her numerous charitable ventures long enough to acknowledge the next contestant. Thumbs DOWN.

6. Alex Trebek: A placement that would have to rate on the higher side of the unintentional comedy scale, Trebek would be hard pressed to mask his disdain for the contestants and the game itself during challenging mental exercises such as Plinko and the Giant Dice Throwing Game (does it need a name?). Sorry Alex, but you get a Thumbs DOWN.

5. Barbaro: Sure, you’d have to work around the fact that he’s dead and all, but once you got around that is there any stopping the charisma of this horse? Everybody loves him, and that skinny microphone looks like it would fit just perfectly alongside his knowing horse smile. If the contestants could learn to sidestep the inevitable horse droppings, we might have a winner. Hoofs UP!

4. Jennifer Love Hewitt: In what is an interesting societal split, the women of America seemed to have accepted Hewitt (or Love-Hewitt, or J-Lo Hewitt or whatever she calls herself) as an acceptable face on the national networks. She has what is an apparently successful series at the present and women seem to see her as an acceptable “girl next door” type. Men see her more for her other…uh…assets, but suffice it to say that the acceptance is mutual. Can she walk and talk at the same time? Who cares? Thumbs UP!3. The Jack Link’s Beef Jerky Sasquatch: Two animals in three choices? Hear me out. Aside from pumping out what I feel are the greatest commercials to come down the pipe in many years, the Sasquatch could provide a whole new entertainment aspect to the show. What could be more exciting than to see the fool who utters a nonsensical bid being immediately mauled into submission as we cut to commercial? Furthermore, who could you possibly be more inclined to listen to when you are told to have your pet spayed or neutered? Thumbs UP!

2. Al Sharpton: Nonsensical entertainment at its best, the combination of Al Sharpton and The Price is Right could be the greatest marriage of guilty pleasures since the internet and porn. Will he make any sense whatsoever? Of course not! But you’ll be glued to your seat for every minute. Do I even have to tell you? Thumbs UP! Of course.

1. Bob Barker: Perhaps the greatest “replacement” for Bob is the man himself. Judging from the set, the products and the aging models, Bob could have died ten years ago and been living on in rerun infamy all this time. Perhaps that is how the show should continue. They certainly have enough episodes by now, couldn’t they just piece together some bits for new shows a la Brandon Lee in The Crow? While a dead horse and Al Sharpton are funny, Bob Barker on The Price is Right is just money [bad rhyme and bad pun alert]. Perhaps that is the way it should be. I think we have our…WINNER!

Oh yeah – the game was sold out.

Iran and the Nukes:

With the news that the 8 G’s are meeting in Europe again came more tough talk from the Bush Administration on Iran. The debate about Iran’s nuclear energy/weapons capabilities has raged for years, and with each claim out of Tehran that Iran’s nuclear science is not quite where they want it to be, there are looks of concern and fear painted firmly on the faces of various world leaders. My question, and my obvious ignorance, on this topic is as follows:

Why aren’t they allowed to have nukes?

Seriously. From what I can tell they haven’t signed a treaty. Last time I checked, we still have a ton of nukes. I understand that Iranian nuclear weapons can invoke thoughts of danger and fright, but does that fear really engender us with the right to tell a sovereign nation what it can and cannot do? Any wisdom on the topic would be appreciated.

Billy and the Magic:

Absolutely had to touch on this one. The sporting world has been on fire the last few days regarding Billy Donovan’s decision to leave Florida for the NBA’s Magic (the team, not the former player). Shockingly, the news of Donovan’s departure from Florida was followed by news of an even more unexpected event – his return.
In the days that have followed Donovan’s decis…er…indecision, members of the national sports media have been lambasting him for “going back on his word,” “backing out on a contract,” and generally being a wussy girly man. Call me what you will (like a wussy girly man), but I’m not really offended by Donovan’s wavering. Despite the manly maxims about sticktuitiveness, keeping your word, etc., I think it is refreshing for a prominent name in sports to confess when he made a mistake, and work to correct that wrong before it is too late. Honestly – how many of us have been in Donovan’s situation and simply went through with the option we didn’t really want because we thought it was too late to turn back. Isn’t it better to make the decision that is right for your? Don’t you want to have that opportunity? I say we should cut the guy a break.

Hate-Rod and the Unwritten Rules of Baseball:

Speaking of universally hated girly men – is this guy on a mission to become unlikeable? Somewhere along the progression of his slap fight with Varitek, his slapping the ball out of Arroyo’s glove, his ridiculous contract, and his constant obsession with making stupid comments to reporters, Alex Rodriguez went from being the next Ken Griffey Jr. to being one of the most hated players in the game. Not surprisingly, the public wasn’t itching to jump to his support during this most recent “I’ve got it” gaffe. While I try not to jump to conclusions, I must admit it is disheartening that it is Rodriguez, not the aforementioned Griffey, who will have a legitimate shot at breaking what will soon be Big Barry’s career HR record. Speaking of steroids – A-Rod is certainly looking alot bigger these days than he was when he played in Seattle…

Sheffield’s Foot and His Mouth:

In an interview that was surprisingly under-reported, Gary Sheffield recently pontificated on race theory according to Gary – the results were interesting…to say the least. It’s hard to decide which is more surprising – that Sheffield still has stupid things left to say or that he’s always surprised when his comments are “misinterpreted.” Perhaps CNN could slide him in as one of the 42 candidates in the Republican or Democratic debates they have been televising – talk about your automatic sound bites…

That’s it for today folks – feel free to add. Let us know what’s on your mind…

If you do, you’re one step ahead of me. In what will be THE single most unpopular article in the history of STH, I am now ready to publicly admit a secret I have long harbored in the deepest depths of my subconscious. This is a secret so terrifying, so embarrassing, that it would have me banished from every country club in the land and shunned by every self respecting middle to upper class citizen of America…

I hate golf.

That flushing sound you just heard was the complete decimation of my future earnings potential. Everyone knows you have to love golf to be successful…right? Or if you don’t love it, you have to at least pretend…don’t you? Isn’t the golf course “where business deals are made”? Isn’t the putting green where clients are won? Aren’t I required to have an “I’d Rather Be Golfing” t-shirt by the time I’m 42?

If the answer to any of these questions is yes, I’m in for a very long and unhappy trip to middle-aged man-hood. I’m not sure when exactly it happens, but sometime during the throes of childhood every pure-blooded American male (and a surprising number of pure-blooded American females) are genetically encoded with a love for all things golf. It starts younger for some, later for others, but sometime between the keg-stands in college and that first real job, an inborn love for golf takes hold. Soon stories about wild bars and girls with “decent” faces are replaced with “great weather” and stories about handicaps, drivers, and mind blowing putts [feel free to replace my generic/imaginary boring golf drivel with your real-life boring golf drivel].

While this is obviously not an editorial calling for a new version of Golden Tee, I’ve never been one to lay down insult without reason. While you might not care and you’ll certainly disagree, allow me to present you with just a few of the reasons I look to when people ask me why I don’t golf…

1. For the Love of Nature…

I enjoy great weather as much as anyone, but when the sun peak through the clouds on a beautiful day, I think about going for a run, relaxing at the pool, or (especially in the fall) playing a game of football. For some reason the thought never enters my mind to dress up like an old man and go to a place full of actual old men who are dressed worse than I am. While I appreciate mother nature as much as the next guy, I don’t gaze upon a beautiful natural landscape and secretly hope that someone would crop the grass to half an inch, dump mountains of sand in assorted piles, and randomly place flags and small holes throughout. Golf courses might be green, but they are oddly designed and rarely do they come close to even imitating the natural beauty of the world.

2. Golfers Are Not “Athletes”!

On no…he didn’t! Sorry – it must be said. Though golf might be entertaining, challenging, and wildly competitive, golfers are “athletes” only in the way that poker players, bowlers, and NASCAR drivers are “athletes” (oops…there goes another audience). While Tiger Woods is an athletic ambassador for the game, Michelle Wie was better than you are when she was 11 and John Daly is…well…John Daly. Look around the links the next time you’re skipping work. Would you want 55 year old Eugene from accounting on your pickup basketball team? Could your great Aunt Millie run the anchor leg of a 4 x 100? Golf may be frustrating and it may make you look stupid, but it doesn’t make you an athlete.

3. All The “Cool Kids” Are Doing It…

Actually, ALL the kids are doing it. How many people do you know that DON’T golf? How many of them can walk? When the popularity of a game swells to epic proportions, the quality of that game, at all levels, is diminished. Baseball, football, basketball, and hockey avoid this pitfall because they really can’t be played consistently once one passes a certain age. This time restraint on participation adds to the ambiance and the reminiscing often associated with those sports.

In golf, there seems to be no recognizable age limit for participants, particularly amongst non-professionals. With such an absurd population of golfers, isn’t the game destined to be a bit over-hyped? Were you really aching to be the 5 millionth person to get a belt holster for your cell phone a few years back? Would you have died if your family didn’t get a mini-van in the 90’s? Have you read every Harry Potter book? Perhaps it’s my inner rebel dying to get out, but sometimes I think it’s a breath of fresh air NOT to do something that everyone else is doing.

The list could go on, but I digress. As you can see, I’m one of the few who has not been sold on the bills of goods that is golf. The next time I have a free Saturday afternoon, you might find me at the park, or perhaps with a group of friends playing a rousing game of bocce. One place you won’t find me is at the country club, lacing up my sweater vest. Golf might be the way of the future, it might be a tradition of the past – but it’s not a game for me.

To those who I’ve offended…you’ll get over it. In the meantime, feel free to drop a line and convince me of why I’m wrong. I might not be easily pursuaded, but I’d love to hear what you have to say.

Tonight’s game between Cleveland and Detroit should be a very tough, hard-fought game. The Cavaliers are looking to close out the Pistons and advance to the Finals. The Pistons meanwhile are looking to just stay alive and get the chance to play Game 7 back home in Detroit.

If this sounds familiar to some of you, that’s because this same scenario played out last year…Cavs up 3-2, coming home for Game 6. If you remember, it was the savvy Pistons who won Game 6 on the road, and then returned home to finish the job. This year though, things look a little different. Why? LeBron James, that’s why.

Bottom line here is that Cleveland is going to close this series out today. Detroit has had their time, and now it’s time for LeBron and co. to step up. I say they do it today. My money is going on the Cavs (-1.5) today. I would suggest doing the same with yours.

Unfortunately, in between the Pro Bowls and Super Bowl rings, Roger’s glamour eventually faded in my eyes. It could have been at the time when I was contemplating a career change, as the next Ultimate Warrior, or perhaps it was just jarred from my subconscious during an aggressive turn on the seesaws. Regardless – somewhere amongst the endless days of milk cartons and single file lines, Roger became an afterthought and I moved on to bigger and better. But didn’t we all? Aren’t we supposed to?

While the characters can change from year to year and child to child, every kid at some point has (or at least deserves to have) someone or something that they want to be when they grow up. Perhaps you were the young astronaut in training, the fashion designer, or the police officer. Perhaps, like me, your dreams of joining the professional wrestling circuit were delayed along with your continually promised growth spurt. In any event, the aspirations of a child provide the opportunity for creativity, development of tangible goals, and conversation starters for unimaginative adults. While somewhere in our subconscious we likely all knew that we wouldn’t be the first President of Mars or the next He-Man, the audacity of those goals allowed room for significant achievement should we fall short.

Roger Craig high stepped back into my head last week – somewhere between my brown bagged lunch and a daily check of the calender for the day that would follow. Leaning back slowly in my pleather chair and staring at the unwavering excitement of “Thursday”, the feelings of self doubt began to creep in. What is Roger doing today? Have I really gotten that far off track? How long will it be until seven year old me saunters through that door, whispers softly to beckon me closer, then violently knees me in the groin? I was going to be an NFL star for crying out loud – what the hell happened?

What happened indeed. Rare are the few who live out each day fulfilling what has been their lifelong dream of being a certified public accountant…or a human resource manager. For the rest of us, the life we lead is a far cry from the life we once dreamed. It’s not lesser, or even lower…it’s just…different. So for those of us who have reached that realization, where do we go next? When we stop idolizing Roger Craig and start idolizing Greg from accounting, what are we to expect of ourselves? Sure, perspectives change and lifetime goals are adjusted – a house on the beach might become a two year old with a good car seat and that’s certainly as it should be. But does that mean we should stop dreaming about what could be? I’ll never be Roger Craig, but isn’t it important that I continue to test myself by setting goals that I might never achieve? Are you really ready to say you’re all grown up?

As Roger Craig galloped from my mind’s eye once again, I returned my thoughts to “Thursday”. While the realities of life would not be forgotten, the vague plan of a future career began to formulate – cruise ship captain. I would sail to only the finest destinations with the pleasantest of passengers – and I’d have a kick ass hat to boot. There’s a chance this career change may never materialize, but the idea is still there and I won’t act quickly to banish it. Besides, nobody ever asks me how old I am anymore…

Fortunately, upon returning home I was reunited with the band on coincidently, another road trip. I had two full weeks of cross-country driving to become versed in the Avett Brothers music and as each day passed my fondness for the band grew. From their early albums (Live at the Double Door and A Carolina Jubilee) to the more recent (Four Thieves Gone: the Robbinsville Sessions), the songs had staying (and driving) power. I was quite impressed that three men could make such intoxicating music with simply a standup bass, acoustic guitar, harmonica and banjo. Expressed in the Avett Brothers music are the sentiments and emotions we all feel but have difficulty articulating. It is the saccharine combination of words and instrumentation that makes the music so convincing. As many fans will attest, this North Carolina band is not to be categorized. Their mix of bluegrass, old-time, honky-tonk, Americana, folk and rock make for one hell of a musical cocktail!

I’ve heard nothing but praise about their live shows and recently had a chance to witness not one, but two performances in one week. The first took place in Philadelphia at the Trocadero and the second at the Chameleon Club in Lancaster. Since I only made it for half of the Philly show I can’t elaborate too much. But I distinctly recall a single Air Jordan sneaker being passed among the crowd. Now that’s punk rock! I entered the venue on what I think was the song “Pretty Girl from Chile.” I had to do a double take as I thought maybe I walked in on a hardcore show. The guys were electrically plugged in flailing erratically on the guitars and drums. I was unaware that the Avett Brothers even owned electric guitars and for a second it felt like I was witnessing Bob Dylan at Newport…minus all the disdain. The crowd loved the new amplified sound and the energy was contagious. It was a great, if brief, introduction for me.

After the foretaste, I was pleasantly surprised (and a little shocked) to learn they would be playing Lancaster. It takes an adventurous band to play an out-of-session college town on a Sunday night. Thanks to a friend (cheers – Caroline and Dane), my buddy, Janelle, and I were added to the guest list. Upon arrival I was skeptical that a significant number of people would even show. I think the last band I saw there was Boy Sets Fire back in 2002 and even though Lancaster has an affinity for hard-core music I recall the turnout to be most disappointing. But the opener, Jersey-born Nicole Atkins and her band, the Sea, helped draw a semi-local audience. While schmoozing, I learned that the tri-state crowd was well represented with hippies, punks, farmers and professionals of all ages. I knew I’d enjoy Nicole the second she sauntered on stage. Her onyx black baby doll dress was PJ Harvey meets Joanie Mitchell, accented with hot pink tights and knee high boots. Her music oscillates from catchy pop ditties to depressing pensive ballads – a definite treat for all the manics in the crowd.

Then the Avett Brothers took the stage. They were dressed in their characteristic suits, ties and sweaters. The first thing I noticed was Seth had shaved his chest length Civil War beard, making him appear a few years younger. They opened with the song “The Weight of Lies” from their newly released album Emotionalism. As a transient individual the lyrics of this song really strike a chord with me: “The weight of lies will bring you down/ And follow you to every town/ ‘Cause nothing happens here that doesn’t happen there/ So when you run make sure you run/ To something and not away from/ ‘Cause lies don’t need an airplane to chase you down.” The song has a gentle folksy feel complete with fluent guitar and tender humming. The night continued with classics intermittent with new songs. Janelle was excited to hear her old favorites: “Distraction #74, Traveling Song, and When I Drink” and I was eager to experience their latest material. Janelle informs me the addition of Joe Kwon on cello is fairly new direction for the band. Since the cello is one of my favorite instruments (next to the mandolin – which Scott, I think would nicely add to your repertoire), I was immediately excited to see Joe take the stage. It really complimented “If It’s the Beaches,” making it an even more moving number. The combination of the cello and Nicole Atkin’s voice on “Swept Away” also proved a success.

As the title would suggest, the new songs are full of vulnerability, passion, and conviction. The crowd was treated to “Go To Sleep, Will You Return?” and “Paranoia in Bb;” as well as Scott tearing up the drums on “Die Die Die.” I was a little disappointed in the absence of the allegorical “The Ballad of Love and Hate,” but they had enough quality material that I quickly forgot. However, don’t let their boyish charm and gracious demeanor fool you. These boys can rock with the best of them! You know it’s an Avett Brothers show when throughout the set Scott breaks half dozen banjo strings and Seth ends up on his knees and back while shredding it up on the guitar. Add a little head sweat wiping and Elvis-esque gyrating and you’ve got a show to remember. With the exception of the rare NAPs (Non-Active Participants), the crowd was fully immersed in the music. I especially enjoyed watching a few couples contra dance in the middle of the floor.

If it’s not obvious enough, I’ve developed a real penchant for the Avett Brothers. They are the kind of charming country boys the girls want to date and the guys want to be. The music simply speaks for itself. The brothers produce rich harmonies and Bob strums the bass like it’s nobody’s business. They are the quintessential “good guys finish first” story. They’ve put out an album every year for the past six years with each one expanding on the talents of its predecessor. With an exhausting touring schedule, they continue to produce high energy shows without getting piss-ass drunk and always stick around to acknowledge their fans. Heck, their t-shirts are even American Apparel! Therefore, I strongly urge you to immediately start listening to their music and attend a show. They will be on tour all summer (www.theavettbrothers.com) and chances are they will be returning to a stage near you. But be sure to bring your dancing feet because once this machine gets rolling it is full speed ahead until the very end.

So rejoice fans of Portland and Seattle. Your team has earned the chance to turn itself into an instant playoff contender with a top 2 selection in next month’s draft. Portland should be very happy to get Greg Oden (likely the top pick) to team with Brandon Roy (last season’s Rookie of the Year, shown above after the Blazers won the lottery) and LaMarcus Aldridge (the # 2 overall pick last year) for the next 8-10 years. Seattle fans know that the pick of Kevin Durant could likely save their beloved Sonics from a move to Oklahoma City or Las Vegas. The pick of Durant also might be enough to keep free-agent-to-be Lewis from leaving town. Combine those two players with Ray Allen and a decent point guard, and you could be looking at a team who will rival Phoenix for most points scored.

Philadelphia fans should rejoice as well. Sure, we lost the lottery…but so did the Celtics. It certainly sucks that we will not be getting one of those top players, but at least they will be playing out West where they can’t hurt us too much. Perhaps even more assuring is the fact that the Celtics still suck more than we do! Ah, the joy of small comforts.