America into the 21st Century 3.5" Button (100 pac America into the 21st Century : Presidential America Into the 21st Century

Cowboys sign reality show star - NFL - Rumors - FanNation

This story is a little reminiscent of Vince Papale and the Philadelphia Eagles from back in the day...

Cowboys sign reality show star - NFL - Rumors - FanNation

The dream ride that Jesse Holley has been on for the last 18 months became even more real on Wednesday. The wide receiver, who has spent the last season and a half on the Cowboys' practice squad, has been called up to the 53-man roster this week. The Cowboys made room on the roster by releasing offensive tackle Robert Brewster, who could return on the practice squad if he clears waivers. Holley not only officially signed his contract on Friday, but he is expecting to play Sunday in Minnesota as a key member of the special teams. The winner of Michael Irvin's reality TV show 4th and Long, which landed him the 80th and final spot on the Cowboys' training camp roster back in 2009, Holley has continued to work his way up the ranks and now that hard work and desire has officially paid off.

Read more: http://www.fannation.com/truth_and_rumors/view/237350#ixzz12WwzGVn1

America in the 21st Century Mousepads from Zazzle.com

America in the 21st Century Mousepads from Zazzle.com

America has been going in the wrong direction since before the turn of the century. The baby boomer era mantra, "Sex, Drugs and Rock & Roll"  has shockingly been realized in the United States.    The “America in the 21^st Century" graphic tells this story as depicted by iconic images of Bill Clinton with Monica, George Bush with a beer, and a smilin' Barack Obama with guitar.

Bad Officiating and bad play by Seattle in Super Bowl XL

So this morning while I sat on my recliner with a donut and Irish coffe, I checked out the NFL's official site and read an article from the Associated Press titled, "Super Bowl XL referee regrets that mistakes 'impacted the game'.  According to the article NFL referee Bill Leavy was at Seattle Seahawks training camp as part of the annual training camp rules interpretation, and before starting, acknowledged he made mistakes in Seattle's loss in 2006 to the
Pittsburgh Steelers in Super Bowl XL.

Obviously this was done primarily to placate the Seahawks organization, but judging from the volume of articles and blogs devoted to the topic, Leavy's remarks are refueling the conversation.  Bottom line is Seattle Seahawks fandom is whining again, blaming everything on the refs....

In addition to the couple of calls Leavy admittedly blew, I guess it's "the Refs" fault for...

Seattle getting fooled out of their jocks on a 43 yd trick pass play for a TD.

I guess it's "the Refs" fault for...
Seattle's defense giving up THE LONGEST TD RUN IN SB HISTORY, 75 yds by Willie Parker.

I guess it's "the Refs" fault for...
Seattle missing 2 FGs.

I guess it's "the Refs" fault for...
Seattle's TE Stevens dropping 4 very catchable balls ALL in key situations. Not 1st & 10, but 3rd & 13...3rd & 8...and one drop was the difference in Seattle punting or attempting a FG.

I guess it's "the Refs" fault for...
Seattle REPEATEDLY punting deep through Pittsburgh's endzone EVERYTIME, consistently failing to pin the Steelers deep, resulting in an easier gm of field position and 1 drive which ended in a TD.

I guess it's "the Refs" fault for...
Hasslebeck dropping back on 3rd & 18 (IN FG POSITION) & lobbing an ugly INT.

I guess it's "the Refs" fault for...
Big Ben, completing a 37 yd pass on 3rd & 28 to Seattles 2 yd line, after PENALTY ON PITTSBURGH contributed to the 3rd & a mile situation.

I guess it's "the Refs" fault for...
Seattle's "star" RB being shut down just enough to force several 3rd downs.

I guess it's "the Refs" fault that...
that ON those 3rd downs, Seattle, called some of the most BONEHEADED plays in the history of Superbowls.  Five (5) times, heaving it deep for the big bomb on 3rd & 4 or less.

I guess it's "the Refs" fault for...
Seattle carelessly having the ball at Pittsburgh's 37 yd line with 48 seconds to go in the half and foolishly failing to get the next play off until 13 seconds remained.

AND, again instead of a short pass to set up an easier than 54 yd FG. They heave it deep trying for a TD bomb vs a Prevent defense AND they go into the locker room with an unused timeout.

I guess it's "the Refs" fault for...
Seattle doing the same thing again in the 2nd half. On 3rd & short, they heave it deep & incomplete forcing their kicker to AGAIN have to kick the FG from 50 plus...and of course BOTH of those kicks missed barely, making that extra 5-8 yds a BIG deal.

I guess it's "the Refs" fault for...
Seattle failing to capitalize on the play where Jeremy Stevens caught the ball, took 3 steps, was hit by the safety & fumbled, only to have it ruled "Incomplete"...wait, actually, YOU'RE RIGHT, that WAS the refs fault. Lucky thing for Seattle huh?

I guess it's "the Refs" fault for...
All the passes Seattle receivers DID catch that were OUT OF BOUNDS. It happened on two very important plays, long pass plays, and Hasslebeck couldnt even keep the ball in bounds.

I guess it's "the Refs" fault for...
Seattle failing to make plays on plays when there WASN'T a penalty called

I guess it's "the Refs" fault when...
Seattle, later in the game, KNOWING they need a TD & FG, (in no particular order) and was currently in EASY FG position on 4th down, AGAIN went for the long shot TD play vs a pass defense that was defending EXACTLY that type of play. There was still time for the FG, onside kick, & a couple deep balls to the endzone, but instead they GAVE UP.

Yes, call me an Armchair Quarterback, but truth be told, they never really showed up.

599 Home Runs for A-Rod, anyone care?

In the USA Today, Reid Cherner and Tom Weir asked if Alex Rodriguez sets an extraordinary record, and nobody claps, does he really make a sound? You can count me as someone who scarcely noticed, and certainly won’t be applauding the ‘achievement’.

Chemer and Weir wrote, “The Yankees superstar is on the precipice of doing something that only six other men in Major League history have accomplished -- hitting 600 home runs.

It is a list that includes Barry Bonds, Henry Aaron, Babe Ruth, Willie Mays, Ken Griffey Jr. and Sammy Sosa.

The list does not include luminaries named Mantle, DiMaggio, Williams, Gehrig or Musial.

Last night A-Rod hit 599 and says of the milestone chase that he's "having fun. I'm going to hit it and, hopefully, when I (do), like (Thursday) it's going to count for a win."

But not since Bonds' pursuit of Aaron have there been this many mixed emotions about a milestone chase.

Rodriguez has rubbed many people the wrong way ever since he signed that $252 million contract in Texas.

Coupled with his steroids interview a year back, there are many who are turning their backs on A-Rod despite him being one of the greatest players of all-time.

Will you applaud him when he hits No. 600?”

No, I certainly won't be applauding A-Rod's milestone.  Afterall, Ruth did it on hotdogs and beer.

On May 25th, 1935 at Forbes Field in Pittsburgh, Ruth went 4-for-4, drove in 6 runs and hit 3 home runs in an 11-7 loss to the Pirates. These were the last three home runs of his career. His last home run, number 714, cleared the roof at the old Forbes Field—he became the first player to accomplish that feat.

Beetle Breakdown and an Unexpected Sighting of Boulder's Log Lady

I drove my lightning bug green 2000 Beetle to work the other day, and the damndest thing happened. I stopped off at a coffee shop around the corner on my way in, and when I jumped back in the car it started, and immediately died. Not giving it a second thought, I fired it up again, and two seconds later it died. Not suspecting anything, I went through this sequence a couple more times before I noticed a peculiar flashing light on my dash.


Thumbing through the owner’s manual, I quickly discovered that this warning light was informing me that the ‘Immobilizer’ had engaged and the car was, well… immobilized. In other words I was screwed.

I walked the quarter mile to my office and frantically searched the web for a quick fix, a workaround, some little trick to reset the bugger and get me on the road. I found a couple of sure-fire solutions, naturally none of them worked. I was instructed to disconnect the battery for a full half hour, another one specified turning the key to the on position for 45 minutes, and a couple of other ploys in between. One offered that I should pound the dash repeatedly, something that I had already tried prior to abandoning the car in search of my blog based epiphany.

Later, I was to discover that the whole problem was a sensor (transponder) in my stupid key that had failed. Naturally I didn’t have a spare key with me, so I had to catch a bus home.

It was on this unplanned use of the public transit system that I sighted a legendary resident of Boulder County, Colorado; The Log Lady. I Never really paid much attention to the stories, simply dismissed this rumored being as nothing more than some homeless woman, a curious bag lady, nothing more. Every city’s got transients, and surely this was no different.

Nope, she’s the real deal. The bus crawled to a stop at my destination, the Park and Ride in Nederland, and she waddled past my seat near the front of the bus. Cradled in her arms like a newborn, was a two foot long pine log.  It was a fine log, having a perfectly symmetrical pattern and an obvious point of pride for this middle-aged woman.

She seemed preoccupied with her log while departing, until the bus driver broke the silence by kindly wishing her that the log would burn nicely for her that evening. She didn’t say anything in response, but didn’t have to. Her eyes betrayed the distain she felt, piercing black beetle eyes behind her tortoise shelled spectacles.

Joe Posnanski's Incredible Column: No Goats Here

Sports Illustrated writer Joe Posnanski wrote a tremendous article about last night's NCAA Championship game which I've included here in its entirety.   Astonishingly, I also read a few blogs out there, and heard some commentary over the airwaves, where people were actually lambasting Gordon Hayward.  Some actually pointed a critical finger at him, faulted him for the Bulldogs falling a few inches short, and essentially called him a scapegoat.  Poor Gordon Hayward  will undoubtedly relive that errant 45 footer for the rest of his days. 

Magical game comes down to last shot and Duke earns greatness

By Joe Posnanski

INDIANAPOLIS -- The ball is in the air. And because the ball is in the air, anything is possible. Miracle? Heartbreak? Pandemonium? Silence? Yes. Anything. That's the beauty of a magical game like this, and also the pain. The basketball is in the air. If it misses, Duke wins one of the greatest championship games ever. And if it goes in (and it looks like it is going in), Butler wins the greatest game that has ever been played.


The basketball is in the air, a 45-foot shot that looks like it is going in, and Duke coach Mike Krzyzewski knows that if it goes in, the right team won. And he also knows that if it misses, the right team won, too. This is that kind of game. Both teams have played impossibly hard. Every player defended with every ounce of strength they had. Every player made a winning play -- something, a rebound, a block, a devastating pick, a tough foul, a big shot, a good pass, a hard drive to the basket -- that added a line or shade to this masterpiece. Duke wore white, and Butler wore dark blue (the opposite of the image they came into this game with), but they played so much the same -- the same energy, the same violence, the same togetherness, the same purpose -- that at some point they just seemed to mix together into this wonderful blend of gray.

And now it comes to this -- a ball in the air and the quirks of gravity and chance and the bounce. Duke could have pulled away. Several times it looked like Duke would pull away -- the Blue Devils had a four-point lead, a five-point lead, and they had the ball, and it just felt like one more basket, one more three-pointer would slay Butler once and for all. But Duke could not make the shot. Not on this crazy night.

Then again, a couple of times it looked like Butler had the magic, that beautiful magic that can happen when five players defend like one and everybody on the team believes in the absurd. With six seconds left, Butler star Gordon Hayward drove to the baseline, and, while fading out of bounds, shot a high-arching 15-footer that felt good leaving his hands, looked good falling toward to the basket, and would have given Butler the lead and perhaps the title. The shot, though, was a touch long and the ball bounced out.

And now, the buzzer sounds, the crowd is standing, America is watching, and the basketball is in the air -- Hayward's not-quite desperation 45-foot shot that will decide this game is in the air.

"It had a chance," Butler coach Brad Stevens would say.

"It looked good," Duke's Kyle Singler would say.

"I was just praying it would not go in," Duke's Nolan Smith would say.

"I thought it was going in," Butler's Matt Howard would say.

But you already know. The basketball is not in the air. The basketball hits the backboard a touch hard. The basketball hits the front rim. And the basketball falls away. It could have fallen. It did not fall. And Duke wins the national championship.

"I still can't believe we won," Krzyzewski said after it ended, and his voice sounded hoarse, and he had been crying. Four Duke championships -- this was easily the most emotional Krzyzewski had ever looked. He stared out.

"I don't think we were lucky," he said. "Because we earned it. But there is some ..."

He paused. There is some ... some what?

"But there is some ... yeah," he said.

Some ... yeah. What a game. What a night. Everybody knows the amazing Butler story, but the truth is that there was a Duke story, too. Nobody thought this was a great Duke team. Seven times in 24 years, Krzyzewski had coached a Duke team into the national championship game, a staggering achievement, but each of those teams had that certain Duke aura. Those were terrific teams, and they were expected to be terrific teams, and they had All-Americas, and, well, this team was different. This team had very good players, of course. But there were no first-team All-American. There was no Grant Hill here, no Christian Laettner, no Jay Williams or Shane Battier. The core of this team got drilled in the Sweet 16 of the tournament last year by Villanova, and the bulk of this team lost three of its first seven conference games. They were good all year. But they just seemed vulnerable.

Krzyzewski felt it, too. He would tell them: You are a good team. That's all. He did not want them to get comfortable. He did not think they could afford to feel too good about themselves. After a while, well, they played so hard, and they were so close, and they came together, he would tell them: "You are a very good team." That's as far as he could go. The Blue Devils went into the NCAA tournament as pretty clearly the last No. 1 seed -- "good but not great" was their tag. They defended. They could make three-pointers. They had a lot of size inside. They played as a team. But, people said, this still was not DUKE, all capital letters, the teams that had won so much and won so thoroughly that the only reaction for much of America was to despise them for being so good.


These Blue Devils won tournament games. They rolled past Cal. They streaked past Purdue in the second half. No, it wasn't always art. The Baylor game, especially, was often agonizing. But they won. They rained three-pointers on West Virginia. Krzyzewski told his team then that they were a good team with great character.

Finally, Monday night, Duke faced Butler, Duke faced America's story, Duke faced a dome filled with Hoosiers fans. The Blue Devils mainly faced a Butler defense that is so quietly suffocating that people kept missing the point, even though the Bulldogs had not allowed a team even 60 points the entire tournament. They also faced a stunning Butler confidence -- "These guys didn't come in here thinking they were just gonna roll over," Stevens said after the game.

No. The Butler players, quite apparently, kept thinking they were going to win, even as the evidence piled against them. In the second half, Duke led by four and Singler, the Final Four's Most Outstanding Player, had an open shot, and if that shot went in ... but it didn't. Butler stayed close. The game stayed close.

Then Duke led by five, and Nolan Smith had an open jumper, and if that went in ... but it didn't. Duke still led by five, and Jon Scheyer had an open three-pointer, and if that went in ... but it didn't. Duke had one more five-point lead, this time with three minutes left, and this time it looked like Duke would put it away for sure ... but Singler turned the ball over.

Maybe it was Indiana voodoo. Maybe it was destiny. Or maybe Duke players, like every other team that played Butler, found themselves running from ghosts and ducking away from shadows because that's the sort of defense Butler plays. But here's the thing: Duke plays defense like that, too ... shoot, Krzyzewski and Duke practically INVENTED defense like that. And so while Butler would not crumble, Butler also could not quite come back. Butler's terrific Gordon Hayward made only 2 of 11 shots. Butler's terrific Shelvin Mack made only 5 of 14. They were dodging ghosts and shadows, too. This was a game for survivors.

And that's how it came down to that last, desperate heave. Duke's Brian Zoubek stood at the free-throw line with Duke up one. There were 3.2 seconds left. Zoubek made the first free throw. And then, using a herky-jerky motion, he purposely missed the second. Krzyzewski had decided that his team's best shot was to get the clocking going (Butler had no timeouts) and force Butler into some sort of desperate and hopeless heave toward the basket.

Only, Butler had one more bit of sorcery left. Instead of panicking, Hayward grabbed the rebound and dribbled quickly to his right. And instead of panicking, Butler's Howard set a crushing pick on Singler, a certain foul except no referee is calling a foul there. That pick cleared Hayward, left him alone to shoot the final shot. It was a long shot, but it was open. The basketball was in the air. And, it just missed.

"What the hell," Krzyzewski said with a sigh, "it worked." He looked happy and dazed and proud and like he was not entirely sure what had happened. This victory takes his already legendary career one more step up -- now he has four championships, more than his mentor Bob Knight and as many as Kentucky icon Adolph Rupp. Krzyzewski did not want to talk about all that ... he said reminiscing about his own achievements is for another time, once he's retired, once he can look back.

What Krzyzewski did want to talk about is that, after the game, he went into the locker room and looked hard at the players on his team. There was all sorts of emotion. They all realized that they just had won one of the great games ever. They all realized that for the rest of their lives they would be connected by this game and this championship and that final heave that did not go in. And, as everyone quieted down, Krzyzewski said to them in his craggy voice the words he had been waiting all year to say.

He said: "You are a great team."