Cheating II: The Wait for III

I was hoping that I would never write about Performance Enhancing Drugs (PEDs) again. I really was. But every time it hits the headlines, and the media subsequently pushes the buttons of the fans until they’re foaming at the collective mouth, I can’t help but get fired up. I think I’ve figured out how to best explain why taking PEDs isn’t actually cheating. Now, I understand that it’s technically cheating, because it’s against the rules.

You know what else is cheating in baseball? Anytime a batter kicks away the chalk outline of the batter’s box, so he can stand further back. Watch a game, and you’ll notice that chalk outline is gone by the end of the first inning. Yet no one is accused of cheating, and there’s no talk of lifetime bans or suspensions. It is still cheating.

This is how I see it is: Cheating happens on the field. While PEDs are part of preparation. There haven’t been any links made between taking HGH, or any other substance, to better hand-eye coordination, athletic ability or any specific skill. Using sandpaper to doctor a baseball directly affects how that ball rotates. HGH increases bone density; muscle mass, decreases body fat and increases exercise capacity. But the player still has to work out, HGH just maximizes those workouts. There are numerous supplements that baseball hasn’t banned, that have many of the same benefits, but perhaps aren’t as effective.

Taking PEDs is like a high school kid, who hasn’t been diagnosed with ADD, who takes Adderall, so they can stay up late and study more. Yes, I’m totally thinking of Jessie in “Saved by the Bell” taking caffeine pills. The result may be better grades. It’s illegal, since they don’t have a prescription, but no one would call it cheating.  Now a student who gets a copy of the test beforehand, we’d all call that cheating. But we wouldn’t say it’s cheating, if a student decided to read ahead in their textbook. Wait, do they still have textbooks? But really, who called Jessie a cheater in 1990?

Now I need to understand why these stories set me off like this. A follower on twitter recently told me, “if you don’t care, then don’t care.” But I do care. I care about truth and honesty. So I despise Ryan Braun, not so much for lying, but for throwing others under the bus. But I’m also super angry that the media and fans only seem to care about PEDs in baseball. They want to take Braun’s MVP award away. But when Brian Cushing was caught using steroids in the NFL, they did strip his award. Then the writers voted again, and he won again. Two seasons later, he put up identical stats, and no one batted an eye. When Kobe Bryant went to Germany for a treatment program that isn’t legal in the United States, it drew some attention, but no one has called him a cheater. In fact, a number of players from different sports, saw that Kobe came back with more bounce in his step, so they also went to Germany to have the same treatment. These inconsistencies from those who are so adamant about keeping sports clean drive me as crazy as a politician who bends the laws they were elected to enforce.

There’s often talk about protecting the integrity of the game, and the legitimacy of the records. But there’s no talk about the legitimacy of those records. Amphetamines (greenies) weren’t tested for until 2006. The likes of Willie Mays, Hank Aaron and Mickey Mantle all used amphetamines when they played. This is a drug that’s now banned by Major League Baseball, and wasn’t tested for until they started testing for steroids. Yet any records set by someone who was alleged to have taken steroids should be overlooked, in favor of records which were set by players on amphetamines? It’s all a joke, only it’s the opposite of funny.

The Dire: Jason Whitlock

In the spirit of full-disclosure, I feel the need to tell you the following: When I was a member of my high school newspaper, the two most influential sports writers for me, were Mike Lupica and Jason Whitlock. Both were smart, witty and highly entertaining to read. Between them, they represented so much of what I identified with; the little Jewish guy from New York and the angry, hip-hop loving outsider in Kansas City. Both have gone to disappoint me, in their opinions and attitudes towards the athletes they've spent careers covering.

I’ve also been a big fan of Jay-Z since his first album came out in 1996. Now you’re probably asking, where could this all be leading to? Well, Whitlock has really pissed me off. Two days ago, Whitlock published a column taking Jay-Z to task for entering the world of sports, as he has recently been certified as a sports agent and started signing some very prominent stars.

I have no idea if Jay will be a decent agent, a great agent or a horrible agent, all of that remains to be seen. What’s obvious right now, and painfully so, is how wrong Whitlock is. Whitlock isn't saying that Jay will fail, but that he has no business attempting a new business venture. And, ironically, Whitlock’s reasoning has a race as the foundation.

I’m not going to go through Whitlock’s column, point by point and argue each of his ridiculous claims. No, that’s too easy. When I read it, using that approach was my inclination. Then it dawned on me, and I saw what Whitlock was really doing. Once a year or so, Whitlock’s name would find its way into the larger sports conversation. There was an idiotic joke about Jeremy Lin followed up, 10 months later, by a thoughtful column about guns after Jovan Belcher’s murder/suicide.

Mostly, however, Whitlock was an after-thought. Going after Jay-Z was a calculated move. Jay-Z is a lightning rod for publicity. And right now, he’s selling a new album and promoting a summer tour with the biggest pop-star in the world, Justin Timberlake.  So Whitlock is calling him out, and comparing him to the house slave from “Django Unchained” is all about getting himself some publicity.

Whitlock calls Jay a “n*gga rapper” for the frequent use of the word in Jay’s songs. His opinion might be eye opening, if Whitlock wasn't always tweeting about his love of the show “The Wire.” “The Wire” is basically, a television version of many Jay-Z songs.  Whitlock’s Twitter-bio says, “The Wire explains my life perspective.” But this week, Jay-Z is a sellout for “willing to entertain the masses with n*gga tales.”

I tried, but I can’t just leave so many of Whitlock’s points un-checked. First of all, Jay-Z entrance in to the sports world isn’t new. He purchased a stake of the Nets (previously of New Jersey) and helped move them to Brooklyn.  His reported investment, netted him a 135% gain. Whitlock points out that, Jay didn't ask LeBron James to rap on his album. Right, well, this venture doesn't end with Jay playing shortstop for the Yankees. It’s the business side of sports. And Jay isn't doing this by himself. He didn't open up some office on 5^th Ave, hire a secretary and start calling on his pals. He has a partner with more than a little experience in this world, Creative Artists Agency. They represent the likes of Timberlake, Hanks, Aniston, Springsteen, Kanye, Beckham, Manning, Jeter and Cruise.

This also isn’t Jay’s first foray into the business world.  There was his clothing line, Roc-A-Wear, which he sold for $204 million. He opened a few successful night clubs, 40/40. He has a partnership with Budweiser Select and was credited as the executive producer of NBA2K13.  As President of Def Jam Recordings, he helped launch the careers of Rihanna and Ne-Yo.  He has a partnership with a former music executive, Steve Stoute, in Translation Advertising, which had resulted in award winning advertising.

I’m not sure how Whitlock is able to talk out of both sides of his mouth, or type out both sides of his keyboard, and continue to be so well compensated.  In early July, Whitlock blamed our countries love of violence for Aaron Hernandez. He stated that modern athletes mimic rappers, carry guns and do drugs.  But just yesterday he tweeted about how great “The Wire” was. Calling some of the characters CEOs, debating who the smartest drug dealer was and justifying (fictional) murders.

Long ago, Jason Whitlock stopped being a journalist and started thinking of himself as a brand, a brand only concerned with selling itself. Much like the Kardashian’s he (rightfully) pokes fun at.  20 years ago, he defended hip-hop, now he rails against it. A week ago he called out a country for its love affair with gangsters, and yesterday he celebrated them.

Jason, go back to blocking for Jeff George. Because you know what I see?

“I see a man without a country. Not hard enough for this right here and maybe, just maybe, not smart enough for them out there.”

Over-Weighted

As sport fans, we’re a bit obsessed with labeling which athletes should be called “The Greatest.” I assume it’s an obsession that goes back to the beginning of time. It’s not a singular activity for sport fans, but we’re probably the most passionate debaters. It often bothers me, and this probably says more about me than anything else, that there’s never been an agreed upon criteria. Not that there is in most other avenues of life, but we have so many statistics and recorded historical events to reference. It’s pretty easy to find out how many rebounds player X had, but not so easy to find out how many objections your favorite lawyer had sustained.

When it comes to the most popular three American sports, Michael Jordan is the most widely accepted answer for the Greatest of All-Time, or the G.O.A.T. And I don’t think that’s an untrue statement. It took me longer to get there than most people I knew growing up. Like most fans, the years I cared the most came during junior high and high school. For most of those years, I was a devoted member in the Church of Magic Johnson. I first realized the err of my ways during Jordan’s first retirement. Absence makes the heart grow fonder and all. So I’m not here to say that Jordan is overrated. But I do believe his six titles are over-weighted.

Six Championships is an amazingly impressive accomplishment, no matter the sport. There’s no debate here. A good or very good player can get lucky and win one, see: Orel Hershiser. Some great ones have played illustrious careers, and never even really sniff one, see: Barry Sanders. Being the main or one of the main, contributors to six titles is remarkable. The guys deserve to be in these kinds of conversations. Sorry, Steve Kerr.

But you also won’t win that many without some level of luck. There are all kinds of different situations, beyond a single player’s control, that have to break just right for a player to be a part of dynasty. For starters, you need the right coach, the right teammates, and the right opponents. Michael Jordan hit the jackpot with his coach, Phil Jackson. Jackson, who for so long was viewed as the lucky one, the coach who just happens to only coach great players, and there’s some truth to that. He needed a little bit of luck too, but eleven rings aren’t an accident.  Having Scottie Pippen play Robin to Jordan’s Bat-Man was another stroke of luck. Pippen, the 5^th pick in the 1987 draft by the Seattle Supersonics, out of the tiny University of Central Arkansas. Seattle had established players in the same positions that Pippen could play (Dale Ellis, Tom Chambers and Xavier McDaniel) so they worked out a trade with Chicago for a center they could have drafted, Olden Polynice and some other draft picks were swapped. Just your standard draft day deal.

So that was a little bit of luck and some smart’s on the part of the Bulls. I happen to think, that Jordan was luckiest when it came to his opponents. Jordan’s Bulls had some legendary battles with the Isaiah Thomas’s Detroit Pistons in the late 80’s. Three years in a row, the Piston’s knocked the Bulls out of the playoffs. They went on to win the NBA title the last two years. Then what happened? Thomas began to breakdown, playing in only 48 of 82 games that year. From winning his last title at 29 years of age, he was out of the league at 32.

Jordan gets his first title in 1991. Defeating the previously mentioned, one time G.O.A.T, Magic Johnson. No luck there, right? Defeating a 5-Time champion, who had one two of the last four titles? Well, not exactly. The Lakers were lead by first year coach, Mike Dunleavy, who replaced Hall of Famer Pat Riley who had stepped down after winning Coach of the Year in 1990 amid rumors of anger issues. Dunleavy is still a household name, who went on to coach 17 seasons. But he’s never been a very successful coach, and after all of those years, he is more than a 100 games under .500. And Dunleavy only won three more playoff series after 1991. The Lakers also suffered significant injuries to James Worthy and Byron Scott. That’s not to say, had they stayed healthy, that the Lakers would have beaten the Bulls. The finals appeared to be the first of possibly multiple NBA Final match-ups, between two goliaths, ended up as a one-time event. Magic Johnson, tragically, retired after the ’91 season after being diagnosed with HIV.

Then in 1992, the Bulls met up with the Portland Trailblazers in the Finals. Portland was a formidable foe, with playoff experience, and the second best shooting guard in the game in Clyde Drexler. However, it again appeared that the foundation was in place for the Bulls to perhaps have a rival in the Western Conference. But Drexler got hurt, and they soon broke up the team. So instead, the Bulls met up with the Phoenix Suns, led by MVP Charles Barkley. The Bulls won their third straight title.

And then…and then Michael Jordan retired. By this time, there’s not much question as to who the G.O.A.T is. Jordan retired with three titles, the NBA record career scoring average of 32 points per game, three MVP awards, and seven scoring titles. He was also just 29 years old.

Jordan only missed a year and a half before his famous return. Still not yet back in basketball shape, the Bulls were knocked out of the playoffs by the Orlando Magic. And everything seemed to point to a budding dynasty for the Magic. They had an unstoppable force in Shaquille O’Neal, who was only 22, and a guard being compared to both Michael Jordan and Magic Johnson, in Anfernee Hardaway, who was just 23. Orlando lost to the Rockets in the Finals, their second consecutive title.

1995-96 was Jordan’s first full year back, and the Bulls were historically great. Winning a record 72 games, and only losing one game on their way to the title. But the budding dynasty in Orlando wasn’t to be. Shaq left for LA after the ’96 season.

The Bulls went on to win the next two titles as well, before Jordan walked away again. In both of those series, they defeated the Utah Jazz. The league had suddenly aged. The mid early to mid-90’s marked an era of young, uber-talented players who never figured it out.  Hardaway, Shaq, Allen Iverson, Stephon Marbury, Antoine Walker, Rasheed Wallace, Jerry Stackhouse, Glenn Robinson, Chris Webber, Juwan Howard, JR Rider, Jamal Mashburn, Nick Van Exel, Kenny Anderson and Derrick Coleman were the post children for careers that could have been so much better. Egos blew up multiple nucleuses’, like the Mavericks and Magic. What does that have to do with Michael Jordan? Maybe nothing. Maybe more. Maybe the style of play from this new generation was so influenced by Jordan, that they all tried so hard to score 30 points a game and get their shoe deals, and so the game suffered. So instead of a decade of great teams, only three different franchises won titles between 1989 and 1998. While five franchises won titles in the next 10 years.

But part of being great, is taking advantage of the breaks you get. Maybe Jordan was so great, that he couldn’t have a single nemesis during his prime. Not the way Magic had Bird, or Russell had Wilt, or Wilt and Kareem.  Perhaps his rival natural rival, turned out to be the saddest turn of luck in all of Jordan’s career. A contemporary, drafted by an iconic franchise who tragically died after a drug overdose. Did Jordan miss out on his greatest challenge, the night Len Bias died? Of course, this has nothing to do with Jordan’s place in history. Before Bias, and since, there have been plenty of highly regarded college players who never realized their supposed potential.

Star Trek Into Greatness

I grew up loyal to the Star Wars franchise. Somehow, I also determined that was pretty much all the Sci-fi wasn’t for me. And Star Trek? It just looked weird. What was up with those ridiculous shirts everyone wore? Hans Solo didn’t wear some weird uniform.

In fact, and this is embarrassing, I was so anti-Trek that it has, potentially, had a negative impact on my bank account. A few years ago, a couple friends and I went to Austin to audition for a VH1 show, “The World Series of Pop Culture.” The three of us are all pretty well versed in movies, television and music. We, also, each have our areas of strength and some weaknesses. Turns out, Star Trek was my Achilles. The first question was: “Who played Khan?”

Now, somehow, I know ridiculous amounts (sometimes embarrassing) of useless movie trivia. Often about movies I haven’t seen.  But I had refused entry, to any Trek knowledge, into my brain. So I missed that question. Did it cost us a chance at making it to the next round, and ultimately from appearing (and winning) the $250,000? Well, it just may have. Based on how often I hear about it, my illogical gap in knowledge probably cost us each $83,333.33 (before taxes).

For a midget with glasses who collected baseball cards, Star Wars, GI Joe and Transformers figures, somehow I never found my way to comic books. I watched , and loved Superman in the 80’s. Soaked up Batman in the 90’s, but that was pretty much it. In 2005, I was sure this new Batman was going to be silly. I was annoyed that Hollywood was just rehashing old movies, and by old I mean, not very old at all. But I learned that this was the right time. The story telling was darker, more serious and very light on the cheese. The same cheese I loved as a kid, but I no longer wanted it draped all over my movies. The character development was fantastic, and the bad guy was more in the grey. Since being a kid, I learned that there wasn't as much good and evil, that life wasn’t that black and white. It’s mostly shades of grey. Batman Begins was all about the grey. My hopes and expectations for these reboots completely changed. Then in 2008, Jon Favreau and Robert Downey Jr gave the world Iron Man, and my eyes were wide open. Although it was so different from Batman, what it lacked in darkness, it made up with charm.

So when 2009 came around, and JJ Abrams gave us Star Trek, I was ready. I saw the movie and loved the movie. I was, and continue to be, completely oblivious to every reference to the originals. And that’s fine with me. Although, I do plan to someday go back and watch the previous 10 movies. I was eagerly awaiting Star Trek Into Darkness. I was ready for it as soon as I finished the 2009 incarnation.

This morning I heard a local morning DJ say that he considered staying and watching the movie again, after he saw it last night. He was absolutely right. I’m ready to watch it again. I’m looking forward to the day I buy the Blu-ray, and I’m already excited to see the third installment, which is scheduled for a 2016 release.

Star Trek Into Darkness is the perfect summer blockbuster and JJ Abrams is, without question, this generations Steven Speilberg. It’s big and bold. The sound engulfs you, the visuals are stunning. And the special effects are so perfect, and so realistic, that you only notice the effects because you know there’s no aircraft like that. Well, not on this planet. Yet. Chris Pine has every ounce of charisma that Harrison Ford’s Hans Solo had. Abrams was recently given the keys to reboot Star Wars, which I rolled my eyes at to begin with. Now I’m just annoyed that he can’t use Pine. Every role is so well casted, I really hope they put together a run of four or five. I completely trust that Abrams could make each subsequent movie the highlight of each summer.

But, I don’t want to raise anyone’s expectations too high. See it. See it soon. 

Give Ya Some Mo

I don’t know that it’s a topic that been debated often. I think, if you ask a group of sport fans, most will vote for Michael Jordan.  But somehow, while mowing last night, it occurred to me that Jordan isn’t the correct answer. Alright, the question is this: when considering dominance, durability and duration; who has had the best career in team sports. Sounds pretty specific, right? But the question came as I was thinking about this one players’ career. It’s been so great, for so long and without no drop in production.

Enough beating around the bush; Mariano Rivera has had the most impressive career in the history of team sports. Yes, I am completely serious. He’s had one bad year, and that was his rookie season when he was primarily a starting pitcher. In the 17 seasons since, he has an era of a miniscule 2.02. He’s completed 10 seasons with an era under 2. That’s not counting this year, where his era is once again under 2. And he’s 43 years old.

In his worst season, he had an era of 3.15. That bloated era can all be traced to a four game stretch in April where he gave up 9 runs in 2 and 2/3 innings. Take that stretch out, and his era for the rest of the season was 2.10. And that’s what makes his career so great. He had one rough stretch, that lasted just four games.

Mo’s post season performance is further evidence of his greatness. In most cases, the public makes assumptions about an athlete’s clutchness, or lack thereof, based on their first few post season appearances.  Derek Jeter, for example, has always been known as a “clutch” performer. Due in large part to his first post season appearance, where he hit .361. But his career post season average is .308 while his regular season career average sits at .313. My point is, the sample size is so small when we make these declarations about who is clutch and who isn’t. And when given a larger sample size, most players perform like they usually do.

There are always outliers, and Mariano Rivera is almost always an outlier to every rule. Rivera has appeared in 96 post season games and pitched 141 innings, which is roughly two regular seasons worth. His post season era is a RIDONCULOUS 0.70. Your friends wouldn’t believe you if you said you put up numbers like that in ’87 while playing RBI Baseball.

Rivera holds the record for most career saves, with 623, 22 more than Trevor Hoffman. Hoffman was a dominant closer in the National League for most of Mo’s career. Hoffman had five seasons with an ERA over 3.00.

So why do I say that Rivera has had the most impressive career in the history of sports? It’s the overall consistency. Michael Jordan, was obviously amazing from the first time he stepped on an NBA court. He was also remarkably durable, with only one major injury in his second season. While Rivera had one in 2012. But, for me, the difference is that Jordan stepped away from the game twice. And while he was a great 39 year old in 2003, he wasn’t one of the best in the game.  Jordan’s three point percentage fluctuated from sub 20% to 50% and back to the low 20s. Maybe that’s being picky, but Rivera has been amazingly consistent across the board. Since turning 35, Rivera has a 1.88 era and a 92% save rate. There simply hasn’t been a drop off of any kind.

In his role, he has been the best in the game for 18 years.

Peyton Manning was the only other player, aside from Jordan, that I considered.

Some Mo Did You Know facts:

He has more career strikeouts than: Carl Pavano, Orlando Hernandez, Gil Meche, and Joaquin Andujar.

He has more career wins than: Len Barker, Mark Clark, Roger Craig, and Mike Bielecki.

Only four players have hit more than one home run off of him (no one has hit more than two) they are: Evan Longoria, Edgar Martinez, Rafael Palmeiro and Aubrey Huff.

Of the 66 career home runs he has given up, only 11 came when the Yankees had the lead.

Manny Ramirez has the most career at bats against Mo. He hit .234.

Goose Gossage and Rollie Fingers have 651 career saves, combined. 

Caller

For the most part, Facebook and Twitter have pretty much killed my blog. Topics that used to turn into 1,000 words are now covered in less than 140 characters.  But yesterday I made a comment on a friends’ post, a one liner that I now feel deserves a little more attention. Deserves is a little heavy, but hey, I just wanted to ramble on, and thought I’d do it here, rather than a few dozen comments on his wall.

You better sit down for this. Oh, you are? Well, I hope no one knocks on your stall door. I’ve been listening to the radio a little bit more, mostly sports talk, but when the Kyd is in the car, we have to tune into the local top 40 station. And I am dying to know: why do people still call in to request a song?

Seriously, it makes zero sense to me. It’s 2013. There’s no logical reason for this behavior. Latest reports say that over 160 million American’s have internet access, a third of the population. I’m not sure if that includes toddlers and babies, so we’ll assume it does.  I’m also willing to bet that the percentage is higher in homes with a radio and a telephone. If you have the internet, you can listen to any song you have ever heard in just a matter of seconds. So why take the time to call in to some radio show, be put on hold (if you even get through) then request a song that they play every 12 minutes anyway?

Based on my research, which consists of being in the car with my daughter when these people call in, I feel it’s safe to say that the average requester is a 14.32 year old girl from a middle class family. So not only is she likely to have internet access, she also has an iPod and there’s a very good chance she also has a smart phone of some kind. She’s not at work, unless she’s babysitting. In which case, she may not have permission to use the computer, but she probably doesn’t have permission to ignore the kids for 12 minutes while she attempts to call in and request a song.

The only conclusion I can draw is, the 14 year old girl is calling to request a song just to hear her voice on the radio for 22 seconds. The good: they should only have 14 minutes and 38 seconds left of “fame.” The bad: she still has 14 minutes and 38 seconds left of “fame.” The real truth here: teenage girls talk too much. 

Pay That Man His Money

There’s a line from Rounders that I love to quote, “I feel like Buckner walking back into Shea.” Mike drops this gem as he returns to the scene of his greatest defeat, and he’s playing for his life as he’s $25k in debt and owes most of it to the wrong kind of people. Including his nemesis, who took Mike’s bankroll a few months back and killed his dream of entering the World Series of Poker.

It’s a killer line, and life (luckily) doesn’t present too many opportunities for me to properly use it. Headed to the dentist, or the DMV, are the most likely scenarios for me. And then yesterday, the Kyd and I were invited to join some friends for a trip to the local mall, Oak Park Mall, where I worked at Lenscrafters for seven years. Since leaving in 2005, I’ve been back twice. Once, just a few weeks later, I went to say hi to some friends that still worked there, and then a year later to run an errand. So I haven’t been back in over five years.

“Just walking in here makes me queasy. The Brick walls. The ----ing mopes at the tables. The musty smell. I feel like Buckner walking back into Shea/”

All true. It looks almost the exact same, even some familiar faces at the pizza joint. It’s not all bad memories. In those seven years, I made some great friends. But we always joked that leaving the mall felt a lot like being paroled. So while I love the Rounders’ line, it’s not completely accurate. I felt more like Lohan walking into a parole hearing.

The trip down memory lane ended pretty fast. It was quickly replaced by a feeling that’s becoming more common these days. I felt old. It’s not uncommon for me to be around the Kyd and her friends at either a volleyball game or a school event, and I never really feel old there. In fact, it usually feels like it wasn’t that long ago that I was her age. It’s a totally different vibe at the mall. It looks like a scene out of “The Walking Dead” with texting teens coming from every direction. The groans even made them sound like zombies, and they shuffle their feet in the same manor. That’s when it hit me. I’m old. Even though I remember being that age, and spending way too much time at the mall, I felt more like the guy shouting “get off my lawn!” than I felt like one of them.

The feeling was compounded by the fact that it wasn’t so long ago that I spend the majority of my week among them. So much had remained the same, but the changes are pretty noticeable. Mainly, and sadly, it’s fashion. Girls always look older.  A fact that used to make me a little nervous when I was younger, but now that there’s a girl that I’m responsible for, it’s both terrifying and I suddenly want to go all Michonne on every teenage boy. When I was there, everyone wore jeans. Now the girls are wearing the same tights and boots that their mothers wear, while the doofi (I think that’s the plural for doofus) have jeans hanging off their backside (I may have been somewhat guilty of that many moons ago, get it?), ridiculous haircuts with as much hairspray as my sister used in the 80’s complete with a smug look that really needs to be slapped off of them. I guess that urge isn’t all that new either, as I was an uncle before I could drive, and as a result I’ve always had an overly portative streak in me. But there’s something different about the latest iteration of teens. And they make me feel old, which brings up the first line from Rounders:

“Listen, here’s the thing. If you can’t spot the sucker in the first half hour at the table, then you ARE the sucker.”

I looked, and I didn’t see the old guy in the mall. So I was the old guy. Blech.