buzzard

"It's driving me crazy. I'm grasping at straws. Maybe it's something. Maybe it's nothing." -- Joe Borowski after blowing his second straight save chance Monday night against the Red Sox.

Borowski seems to be mystified as to why his fastball tops out in the low 80s (Manny Ramirez couldn't tell if the pitch he hit for the go-ahead home run was a fastball or a changeup). And now he is on the DL with 'a strained triceps,' according to the team.

I have solved the mystery. Borowski has been lying about his age. His player page lists his date of birth as May 4, 1971, meaning he would be turning 37 in a few weeks. But it appears that might be off by a few -- or 65 -- years. You see, one Joe Borowski was a letter-winner on the Boston College basketball team. In the 1924-25 season. Click the link (it's a PDF file, so you need Adobe Acrobat Reader), scroll down to the all-time roster, then check the roster for that season. There he is, the first player listed.

And it seems he had quite an impact on the Eagles' program, since basketball was discontinued for 20 years after that season.

And not sure what happened to Borowski between then and his 1995 MLB debut with the Orioles. But those 70 years must have been tough on his arm.

According to a friend who has known me for 20 years (more, if you count my sister dating his brother when we were kids), I'm overweight, I need a haircut, and above all, the mustache has to go. Of course, that's me on the left.

This is what happens when you make a bet based on the NCAA tournament, then make picks that include Southern Cal and UConn reaching the Final Four. Then it comes down to North Carolina-Kansas, and the Tar Heels crapped the bed on me. Think I wasn't frustrated to then see Roy Williams wearing Jayhawks gear two nights later?

Now, with the permission of Master Facial Hair Grower Eric Kay, the 'stache will be history within minutes of my leaving work today. So we need this photo for posterity. This one, too. While my wispy growth just can't stand up against Kay's manly display, I think he was bathing his face in Rogaine. Or Procede, endorsed by none other than Charlie McCarthy (not the dummy). There is just no way he grew that without some kind of performance enhancement.

But enough griping. This is the end of the great Mustache Experiment. And I certainly will not be upset to see those last few whiskers go down the drain.

I made my thoughts clear yesterday on Dick Vitale and the Hall of Fame -- it's an abomination.

Something I forgot -- but which had me equally outraged -- was how I heard about the news. From Vitale himself. On ESPN. Before the official announcement was made. It reminded me of NBA award announcements, how the winner is 'leaked' a few days beforehand, then the actual deal is anticlimactic.

Then I started thinking of the guys and gal who were elected alongside (argghhh!) Vitale. Those with more serious Hall of Fame credentials. And how they didn't have their own network to publicize the news and steal the thunder away from their fellow electees. Vitale exposed himself as an egomaniac, eager to go on the air and cry, and blubber, and make sure everybody knew he was in the Hall of Fame.

Did Pat Riley -- five NBA championships as a head coach, one as a player, a very accomplished in both -- do this? How about Hakeem Olajuwon -- two NBA titles as a player, consecutive appearances in the NCAA title game, one of the greatest big men ever in the game? Patrick Ewing, Olajuwon's peer? Or any of the other people elected Monday? No, just Vitale, bawling his eyes out, showing everybody his true colors.

Give me Gus Johnson any day.

Who would you rather listen to while watching a college basketball game -- Dick Vitale or Gus Johnson?

The Loudmouth has been elected to the Basketball Hall of Fame. I assume because of his "contributions" to the game. Which I assume to include yelling, planting his lips on Coach K's but (when they are't securely on Bob Knight's gluteus maximus), and yelling some more.

Like many ESPN "personalities," his schtick has gotten tired. He has become a cariciture of himself. When he starts screaming "PTPer, baaaaaaabyyyyyyy," I have too cringe. Maybe it was something special when he was yelling such things about Derrick Coleman. Or Glen Rice. Or Danny Ferry. I don't think I am alone in this, but my ears start to bleed when I hear his voice.

Not many announcers are in the Hall of Fame. Chick Hearn is inducted. Johnny Most was given the Curt Gowdy Award, but he isn't enshrined. Dick Vitale alongside Hearn, above Most? Not a chance.

The Hall of Fame is supposed to be for the best. Legends. Or people who contributed so much to the game, it wouldn't be the same without their presence. Can you say any of those things about Vitale? No. You might say he helped make college basketball as popular as it is today. Wrong -- it was the players. It's always about the players. People don't tune in to listen to Vitale, the tune in to  see Ewing vs. Olajuwon, Webber and the Fab Five against Duke, and tonight, Derrick Rose against Kansas.

College basketball exploded because Vitale's network began television games nearly every night of the week. It exploded because superstar players, and to a certain extent, superstar coaches, made it an even worth watching. It exploded because Larry Bird and Magic Johnson (before the saved the NBA) gave birth to the modern era of college basketball.

Dick Vitale had nothing to do with any of that, except maybe ESPN putting more games on the tube to give its bald-headed freak more exposure.

If all it takes to be recognized as a Hall of Famer is the ability to scream, there is a long list of people that belong there. And they would probably be about as successful as Vitale at coaching. And as easy to listen to as an announcer.

By the way, before the announcement of Vitale's election Monday, if you put "Dick Vitale Hall of Fame" into Google, the first link to come up was a year-old column by Gregg Doyel about such a prospect. He was rightly horrified. Now that this dark day has come to pass, I almost can't admit that the Hall of Fame is located in my home state.

With Springfield in Western Massachusetts, maybe the Commonwealth should just give it to New York. I hear loudmouths are pretty popular there.