Point guard or power forward?


Very soon, lil' NBA commish David Stern will step up to the podium (and, being short, he will have to step up) to officially begin the NBA Draft.

Are you counting your goosebumps yet?

I'm not sure how many folks care about the draft in this part of the country, but I'll pretend as if a significant number actually do.

This year, we won't get to berate the Atlanta Hawks for their curious talent appraisals (Marvin Williams over Chris Paul AND Deron Williams?) since they will be sitting idly by, having traded away their first round pick (No. 15 overall) to Phoenix.

So, instead of hating on the Hawks, we'll busy ourselves with sorting out the question of Derrick Rose or Michael Beasley with the No. 1 pick.

Chicago will have to decide between Rose, the supremely gifted point guard who left Memphis after his freshman season, and Beasley, the double-double-producing power forward who left Kansas State after his freshman season (anyone notice a trend?).

Advantage Rose.

He's quick off the dribble, comes with a creative grab bag of passing skills and possesses the sort of speed, size and power that will have him an major physical advantage over most players at his position. He's not a great perimeter shooter, but does he really need to be given his ability to drive to the basket?

Beasley isn't a bad option, mind you. Sure, he shrank from his college-listed height of 6-foot-10 to 6-8 after pre-draft evaluations. At the same time, his ball skills and activity level on offense make regular 20-point, 10-rebound nights inevitable.

Still, Rose should be the pick because the way talented point guards can transform a mediocre team into a great one.

Strange week

Wow, you leave the country for a few days and all hell breaks loose.

First, the Columbus Catfish cleared the last hurdle in their way of leaving town after this season. When I read the story while on vacation, my initial reaction was, "Hmm, didn't realize there was a minor league baseball team in Columbus,'' but then I remembered that I had written, oh, about a year ago that they were going to be moving to Bowling Green. Based on attendance figures, it seems a significant number of folks are under the mistaken impression they had already moved.

It's a shame because I don't see any scenario that will allow Columbus to carry on with major league-affiliated baseball.

There are a number of culprits in the blame game, but the field personnel is exempt from the discussion. They put on a pretty good show. The failings of the previous owner have been chronicled, but what amazed me were some of the reader comments posted on our web site after Major League Baseball approved the Catfish's relocation request.

A couple readers suggested attendance was so moribund because of the proximity of a housing project to South Commons and suggested fears of crime kept fans away. I have to call foul on that. I've worked in Columbus for 11 years now and have covered a number of events at Golden Park, the Civic Center and Memorial Stadium. Generally, I'm leaving those venues late at night, longer after the last of the fans have filed out. I have never felt unsafe in that environment.

It’s a shame that some have chosen to stay away from South Commons because of urban legend and ridiculous prejudice. There may be a number of reasons why baseball has failed in our city, but the neighborhood around Golden Park is the least legitimate of them.

Speaking of preposterous comments, can you believe Don Imus opened his mouth again?

The guy just had to weigh in on Adam "Pacman'' Jones' race and somehow imply that his off-field misdeeds are somehow connected to his skin pigment. Imus should have abandoned his attempts at armchair sociology after the Rutgers brouhaha. I'm all for defending free speech, but I'm beginning to wonder how many Imus moments are required before duct tape should be invoked.

Perhaps the strangest story of the week involves Alabama running back-turned-linebacker Jimmy Johns, who was arrested yesterday and charged with selling cocaine and possessing ecstasy pills. Johns had been a regular occupant of Alabama coach Nick Saban's doghouse, which brings up an interesting sidebar to his arrest.

I ran across the web site www.JimmyJohnsPitBulls.com this morning (a recent check indicates it has been removed). Apparently, Johns was breeding and selling the animals. There were photos of Johns in his Alabama jersey, information about the breed and a visitor registry that proclaimed: ''Yo ass has been counted.''

Nothing illegal about breeding or selling pitbulls. Just fighting them, although there is no evidence that Johns has done that.

Still, it makes you wonder if Saban and his staff ever really knew Johns or had any chance of heading him off before he could find the sort of trouble that isn’t punishable by extra wind sprints and one-game suspensions.

And we're back on the blog


Based on the length of my absence from the blogosphere, you might have thought I'd been eaten by a grizzly or detained by immigration officials while in Canada. I'm happy to report that we're back from Montreal, although it was tempting to stay a while longer.

As a first-time visitor, I came away highly impressed with Montreal's diversity, its culture and its preservation of its history. We toured cathedrals, the city’s version of Central Park, the cobblestone-lined streets of Vieux Montreal, the wonderful botanical gardens and the Biodome complex that houses everything from penguins and lemurs. In addition to walking about five miles a day, we ate. A lot. Within a few blocks of our hotel, you could find Russian, Lebanese, Thai, French, Greek and Polish restaurants as well as corner markets with produce bigger, brighter and fresher than anything we've found in our home supermarkets of choice.

The people were wonderful as well even though they're comfortable speaking French and I'm not. It has a very European feel, naturally. A good portion of the men resemble Chicago Bulls center Joakim Noah right down to the ponytail. The women, mercifully, look much better.

The sports scene is rather remarkable as well. Instead of ESPN, the TV offers the Canadian version known as TSN. It's great if you want news on the NHL draft, Euro 2008, major league games or the CFL. If not, you can at least appreciate the lack of a Chris Berman or Stuart Scott.

We took a peek inside the Bell Center, home to the NHL's Canadians, and came away impressed. As for Olympic Stadium, uh, not so much. Built for the 1976 Summer Games, it resembles an ashtray from outer space. Still, the adjacent tower offers an incredible view of the city thanks to the cable car that carries tourists up the side.

Just make sure you look in the direction of the botanical gardens rather than Olympic Stadium.

North of the border, eh?

In an effort to expand my cultural horizons, I will be joining Mrs. Troy's Noise on a trip to Montreal this week.

I'm particularly excited about it for the simple fact that it's about 75 degrees there during the day as opposed to 98 here.

Anyway, that means I'll be out of touch with the blogosphere, the newspaper and the sports world in general for the next week. I'm not sure what sports Montreal residents preoccupy themselves with at this time of year. The Stanley Cup has been decided and the Expos no longer exist, so I'm thinking the options are limited.

I wonder if curling and/or hurling are popular at this time of year.

The Expos may be out of business, but Olympic Stadium is still standing. I plan on taking a look while I'm there, but I'm said that there won't be any Yupi sightings (remember the Expos' strange mascot?).

Atlanta's ailing arms


Just took part in a conference call with Atlanta Braves right-hander John Smoltz for an update on his post-shoulder surgery progress.

Smoltz underwent surgery Tuesday at St. Vincent’s Hospital in Birmingham, Ala. Dr. James Andrews, the renowned orthopedic surgeon who built a measure of his rep at Columbus' Hughston Clinic, repaired damage to Smoltz's right labrum.

The post-recovery prognosis for any athlete can be dicey, particularly for a 41-year-old major league pitcher, but Smoltz said his doctor didn't uncover any gruesome surprises during the procedure.

‘‘If he's pleased I’m pleased,’’ Smoltz said. ‘‘They think they have fixed it all, which translates into a chance to recover to whatever level I desire to recover.’’

What won’t be known for quite some time is whether Smoltz will pitch in another major league game. Smoltz said he plans to pursue ''aggressive'' rehab, but the possibility of returning to the game next season would most likely hinge on how well he regains flexibility in his right shoulder. He said he won’t be able to attempt to throw a baseball for four months. However, he was pleased to learn from Andrews that he could resume his golfing hobby in two or three months.

While the best-case scenario for a comeback by Smoltz would be spring training next year, he will rejoin the team after its current road trip in order to provide counsel to its young pitchers. Injuries have made the Braves’ season look increasingly bleak, with lefty Tom Glavine the most significant casualty of late. Atlanta sits 7 1/2 games out of first place in the National League East heading into Friday night, but have lost six straight and are 7-24 on the road.

During Friday’s media conference call, Atlanta general manager Frank Wren revealed that Glavine will be out for a month due to a torn flexor tendon on his left elbow. Wren said the earliest Glavine could be cleared would be the All-Star break (July 14-16).

"The only thing that will heal it is time,’’ Wren said.

When the Braves acquired Glavine in the offseason, it was celebrated as an opportunity for Atlanta to recapture some of its 1990s-era magic, when the lefthander starred in a rotation that included Smoltz and Greg Maddux. While Smoltz faces an uncertain recovery, he expressed sympathy for his teammate.

‘‘This is not in the script,’’ Smoltz said. ‘‘This wasn't supposed to be the way it was going to end (for both of us). There's still a little light at the end of the tunnel for him. With him, he's going to finish up his career and pitch again.’’

As for Smoltz, he reiterated Friday that he’ll retire with a clear conscience if his shoulder doesn’t heal well enough for him to continue on with the Braves next season.

‘‘I don't have to (pitch), but I still enjoy it,’’ he said. ‘‘If it's meant to be, then I'm going to do it. If not, then it's no big deal. I would welcome that if it's still afforded me. There's nothing I have to attain, nothing I have to prove. I look forward to seeing what the next four or five months hold for me.’’

He's ambulatory, folks


Granted, it's just the first day of the U.S. Open and there are three more rounds to negotiate.

That said, Tiger Woods did pretty well for himself on Thursday. Yes, he was all over the place with three birdies and two double-bogeys that reduced what could have been a solid opening round to a 1-over par 72. Still, the way people were postulating about his health, it's a wonder he could finish 18.

Woods underwent knee surgery two days after the Masters, which explained in part why he faded from contention in that tournament. He hadn't played 18 holes since then until being grouped with Phil Mickelson for Thursday's opening round at Torrey Pines.

It really shouldn't come as any surprise if Woods wins this thing despite all of the doubts about the durability of his knee.

Bodog, the online gaming emporium, rated him as a 5-to-2 favorite going into the U.S. Open.

If any other player in the world had undergone knee surgery a little more than a month ago, you'd have to discount his chances. But Woods has shown time and again that he's not the typical player, that he borders on the bionic. He's far better conditioned than most of the players on the Tour and burns with competitive intensity at all times.

‘‘Guess I don't need a cart after all,'' Woods said Thursday after his round.

Guess he's not out of the U.S. Open picture either.

Discount him at your own risk.

As for me, I wouldn't write him off even if his clubs were replaced by gardening tools and he was forced to negotiate 18 while hopping on one leg.

Courting Tebow's vote

By now, Florida quarterback Tim Tebow's exploits have grown from being simply outstanding to a borderline fairytale.

Forget about the jump pass he threw as a freshman or the Heisman Trophy he won as a sophomore.

Since he picked up the little stiff-arm trophy in December, he's flown 15,000 miles and been honored by 15 different organizations and nine states. He's also traveled to the Philippines and helped doctors provide circumcisions to poor children.

He also killed a grizzly bear by flicking it with his index finger, healed a leper simply by looking at him and fended off five would-be muggers with nothing more than a $5 footlong sandwich.

OK, we made up those last three.

But nothing seems all that impossible for Tebow anymore.

Apparently, his Q-rating is such that political candidates want a piece of whatever magic he contains.

When Tebow won the Heisman in December, President Bush sent him a handwritten letter congratulating him. According to an article by Matt Hayes of the Sporting News, Tebow responded with a handwritten letter of his own. Now, everybody wants to use Tebow as a political football of sorts.

Hayes' story noted that Democratic and Republican representatives asked him to campaign with them during Florida's presidential primaries.

‘‘I didn't feel it was right to publicly show support right now," Tebow told The Sporting News. "I am conservative. I am interested in politics, I pay attention. But there's too much on my plate right now. That may be something that comes in the future."

In other words, get ready for a possible political advertisement with the following addendum:

Hi, my name is Tim Tebow ... and I approved this message.

Brown-out at Belmont


The sport of horse racing seemed to be moving along at full gallop before Saturday afternoon, as if somebody had applied a strong whip hand to spur it back into public consciousness.

I tuned in to watch the Belmont, something I rarely feel compelled to do, because of the promise that history might be made. During the buildup to a race that would last no more than a couple minutes, we were led to believe that an event of seismic proportions would unfold if Big Brown became the first horse to capture the Triple Crown in 30 years. As if the weight of the troubled racing industry would be carried comfortably on Big Brown's four hoofs.

Big Brown's brash trainer, Rick Dutrow, guaranteed a Triple Crown.

So, naturally, it didn’t happen.

In fact, Big Brown's Triple Crown hopes crashed in slow, majestic fashion.

The magnificent beast that dusted the Kentucky Derby field and made the Preakness field look slower than wooden carousel ponies crumbled, either from the weight of expectations or from the fatigue of being pushed too hard for too long.

It's rare when a strong victory by a 38-to-1 shot like Da'Tara gets overshadowed by the underperformance of another horse, but Big Brown slow canter down the stretch raised questions about how it had achieved its impressive results at Churchill Downs and at the Preakness.

It became the first Triple Crown hopeful to finish dead last, a rather ignominous footnote to its foiled attempt at history.

‘‘I had no horse,’’ jockey Kent Desormeaux said of finding Big Brown unresponsive on the final turn.

It's possible he could have found one if he had a hypodermic needle handy.

On Friday, Dutrow told the media that he would not inject Big Brown with a shot of the anabolic steroid Winstrol before the Belmont. He admitted that he had given Big Brown a shot of the performance enhancer before the Kentucky Derby, but claimed he had not done so since. Dutrow said it was customary for him to give Big Brown and his other horses shots of Winstrol on the 15th of each month, but that he did not know what impact it had on their performances.

I'm no veterinarian, but it seems like it would enable them to run the way Big Brown did at the Kentucky Derby. Winstrol builds muscle mass, but it can also promote weight gain and recovery from injury. Although it's banned from being used in 10 states, it's fair game in the those hosting Triple Crown events.

After Saturday, it seems the 3-year-old colt's previous performances are as suspect as some of the feats of Roger Clemens, Barry Bonds, Mark McGwire or Marion Jones.

E-Jack gets slapped

Major League Baseball dished out punishment to eight players involved in Thursday’s brawl between the Boston Red Sox and Tampa Bay Rays.

Former Shaw High School star Edwin Jackson is among the group facing suspensions and fines.

Jackson, a starting pitcher for the Rays, received a five-game suspension and will begin serving it next Friday. Pretty stiff, but two players came out worse. Tampa Bay pitcher James Shields received a six-game suspension for plunking Boston outfielder Coco Crisp with a fastball and Crisp received a seven-game penalty for charging the mound and opening the floodgates on a massive pile-up of punching and (according to one report) hair-pulling.

The others who received the MLB-style call to the principal's office and detention are Jon Lester (five games), Jonny Gomes (five games), Carl Crawford (four games), Akinori Iwamura (three games) and Sean Casey (three games).

The Red Sox swept the series from Tampa Bay, but the Rays sent an unmistakable message during the free-for-all at Fenway.

If the Red Sox plan to win the AL East, they’ll have to fight their way through the Rays.

Chipping away at history


Atlanta Braves third baseman Chipper Jones took care of No. 400 Thursday night, so now we're left to wonder about the possibility of .400.

Of all of baseball's hallowed records, the ones that stand out most to me are Joe DiMaggio’s hitting streak and Ted Williams' .400 season. Those types of numbers can't be faked or bloated by steroids. It's strictly a matter of hand-eye coordination and consistency.

Right now, it's tough to bet against Jones becoming the first player since Williams to finish a season with a batting average over .400.

He went 4-for-5 against the Florida Marlins last night, raising his already resplendent average to .418. The 36-year-old even stole a base on the night when he hit the 400th home run of his career.

If he maintains his torrid pace, remains healthy enough to enjoy another four or five productive seasons, Jones may retire as the best switch-hitter of all time. Mickey Mantle and Eddie Murray have more home runs, but Jones possesses a higher career batting average (.310 and likely to rise). Pete Rose (.303 for his career) was the most prolific contact hitter in baseball history, but didn't possess Jones' ability to change games with one swing.

And what a flawless swing it has been.

Hooping it old school


Yet another piece of confirmation that I'm getting old.

An e-mail arrives in my inbox inviting me to attend my 20-year high school reunion in August.

High school wasn't a hellish experience for me by any means, but there are some aspects of 1984-88 that are best left in the time capsule.

Haircuts, for one thing. Those floppy, blond-dyed monstrosities that seemingly every wannabe surfer dude in Central Florida rocked despite the fact that no self-respecting Flock of Seagulls roadie would have kept such a do after its 1984 expiration date.

Ex-girlfriends, for another. That's all that should really be said on the subject.

In the end, curiosity will get the better of me and I'll go. I'll reconnect with friends I lost touch with since heading off to college. My wife will get to hear stories about me. Some of them might even be flattering.

I'm sure some of my friends and I will laugh about what we looked like in our yearbook photos. We'll assuredly laugh at the late-30-something paunch and male pattern baldness that defines so many of us now.

Since I happen to be a sports writer, they're likely to ask me about what I do and which athletes I've met. Eventually, we'll have to talk about the NBA Finals, about the Celtics and Lakers, about which team emerged from this nostalgia-coated seven-game series because those two teams fueled many a lunch room discussion back in the day.

This particular NBA championship series offers a trip in the Way Back Machine even if Kevin Garnett and Kobe Bryant have replaced Larry Bird and Magic Johnson as the headliners. It's enough to make your inner teen-ager escape to pump some Public Enemy or Beastie Boys on the boom box.

Twenty years ago, it was impossible to conceive of any other teams playing for the league title. Michael Jordan was on the scene, of course, but he had yet to transform the Chicago Bulls into a dynasty.

No matter where you grew up, no matter where you went to school, there were two kinds of sports people. You were a Celtics person or a Lakers person. You couldn't be both.

Truth be told, I was a Celtics person. I appreciated the Lakers -- the way Magic could see the court and squeeze bounce passes through the tightest openings -- but I related to the Celtics more. Even though I experienced some success as an athlete, I was gravity-bound and height-deprived. I couldn't run the floor like Magic, couldn't tower over everyone like Kareem. I also couldn't clear a Visa card with my vertical leap, which made me see players like Bird, Dennis Johnson, Robert Parish and Kevin McHale as not being so different from the rest of us stiffs (even though they were).

The Boston Celtics of today are far different than those of my youth, but I'm still a Celtics guy.

I'll pull for KG and Ray Allen, but I'll hold out hope that this series produces excellence and imagery that will be remembered 20 years from now.

Think of some of the classic outcomes and quirkiness that this series will try to live up to:

* 1984, Game 4: Celtics 129, Lakers 125

Mild-mannered Kevin McHale set the tone for the series by clotheslining Los Angeles ruffian Kurt Rambis on his way to an easy layup in the first half. The benches cleared and tempers flared. That swung the balance of the series and set the stage for ...

* Game 5: Celtics 121, Lakers 103

Bird blows up for 34 point, scorching the nets on a day when it was 97 degrees inside Boston Garden. That was a prelude to ...

* Game 7: Celtics 111, Lakers 102: Boston led by three points with a minute to play, but Dennis Johnson and Cedric ''Cornbread'' Maxwell saved the day with a pair of defensive takeaways. Boston beat L.A. in a Game 7, winner-take-all situation for the fourth time.

* 1985, Game 1: Celtics 148, Lakers 114

Journeyman Scott Wedman went off, going 11-for-11 from the field, and was never really heard from again.

* 1985, Game 4: Celtics 107, Lakers 105

Down 2-1 in the series, Boston gets bailed out by a sequence in which Bird passed out of a double team, finding Johnson for a game-winning 15-footer with two seconds left. But, ultimately, the Celtics' recovery went for naught because ...

* Game 6: Lakers 111, Celtics 100

Kareem Abdul-Jabbar became the oldest NBA Finals MVP at age 38 (which gives hope to all of us on the cusp of a 20-year reunion) after schooling Parish for 29 points, including 18 in the second half to clinch the series for L.A.

* 1987, Game 4: Lakers 107, Celtics 106

Bird drops in a 3-pointer for a 106-104 Boston lead with 12 seconds to go. Abdul-Jabbar cuts it to one with a free throw. McHale loses the ball moments later (with the help of a Mychal Thompson shove), then Magic breaks Boston's heart with a baby skyhook over McHale and Parish.

The Lakers clinched the series two games later, bringing an end to a remarkable period in NBA history in which the league became defined by East vs. West, by Bird vs. Magic, by Boston against L.A.

Twenty years later, we can still work up a good argument about which team and which superstars were better.

One thing we can agree on is that the sneakers Bird and Magic inspired were as awful as the haircuts we sported 20 years ago.

Black or purple and gold Converses.

No thanks.

Some elements of the past are best left buried.

Hazardous job


As if being an umpire at high school baseball games wasn't tough enough already with irate parents who live a little vicariously through their children and quick-tempered coaches who are convinced the men in blue are always conspiring against their respective teams.

Check out this video from last week's Class AAA state championship series between Cartersville and Stephens County:

http://www.workhorsevideoproductions.com/the%20pitch.mpg

The incident took place in the fifth inning of the deciding third game, won 13-1 by Cartersville. In the video, Stephens County catcher Matt Hill appears to duck and pull his mitt down, allowing a pitch to bonk umpire Jeff Scott on the noggin.

High school pitchers can be wild, for sure, but the Georgia High School Association is investigating whether Stephens County intentionally plunked the ump in order to send him a message. The inning before pitcher Cody Martin's pitch hit the umpire, shortstop Ethan Martin reportedly argued balls and strikes with Scott and threw his batting helmet in disgust after becoming the ninth straight Stephens County batter to strike out.

GHSA executive director Ralph Swearngin told the Atlanta Journal-Constitution that he expected to make a ruling as early as today on whether Hill acted intentionally in ducking and moving his mitt. Not sure what Swearngin would consider appropriate punishment in such a case. He could have the offending catcher stand over home plate in a batting cage, blindfolded, and allow the aggrieved umpire to feed balls into the pitching machine.

I'm just thinking out loud here, but expressing disgust at an umpire in such an over the top and potentially harmful manner seems counterproductive. What happened to old-fashioned antics like the chest-bump and Earl Weaver's practice of kicking dirt atop home plate?

Besides, when a team loses 13-1, chances are that it had far more troubling issues than an umpire's interpretation of the strike zone.