The Wire Season 5 Premiere: "More With Less" ("The bigger the lie, the more they believe." - Bunk)

***SPOILER ALERT***

"Don't sleep on Marlo. He up in some shit here."

That's not the epigraph for the fifth season premiere of The Wire, which premiered at midnight last night On Demand. Nope, that's more wise words from the great Slim Charles. Beware of Marlo, indeed. He's as cunning as ever, showing more and more signs of becoming the "perfect criminal" or "Avon and Stringer combined" (which may be the same thing), a couple of thoughts I've read on some comment boards around the way. For one, he is totally hip to the Major Crimers, who scope him diligantly (and Chris, followed judiciously, is no less sharp). At his lair, a young dealer comes to complain about being forced to take his package, 60/40. Unimpressed, Marlo tells him to to either pay himself less, pay his people less, or gather ammunition. "And wait for Chris, Snoop and the rest of my people come pay a call on yo' people," he warns, as Snoop adds calmly, "And we will be brief with all you muthafuckas'. I thank you know." Swallowing his pride, the youngster backs down.

Then, at the Co-Op meeting, he steps out of line by suggesting to Joe that maybe he should give Slim a shot at opening up shop in the new territory that will be awarded to the Eastside players being displaced by some cat named John Hopkins, who's buying up real estate over there and "moving the hood out," as one of the members puts it. When Joe counters, in the most polite way possible, that that's none of his fucking business, Marlo brings the query over to Slim. "How you feel, Tall Man?" he asks. "Ready to pioneer out there for us." "Naw, I'm good where I am," Slim retorts. Cheese rolls his eyes at that answer, and then exchanges ice-cold stares with Marlo. The old divide-and-conquer (wonder if he learned that from 50 Cent?) Marlo Stanfield is a cold gangster, but he's also a deceitful businessman, and that's one very criminal mixture. When you see Chris leave the criminal clerks office at City Hall with a photo of Sergei Malatov, The Greek's associate from Season 2 who is arrested on a murder charge and persuaded to turn informant, you think you begin to get an idea of what Marlo has in mind: He wants to get close to The Greeks, use Joe's own people against him to get him eliminated from the equation, and take over the Co-Op.

I watch every scene with Marlo, Chris, and crew with extra attention. Even though they're terrible, loathsome people who I very much hope to see fall, there's a small part of me that can't help but admire such a well-oiled machine from top-to-bottom. Unlike Avon and Stringer, Marlo and Chris are of the same mind. They work seamlessly together, and that cohesiveness trickles down through the rest of their organization. Everyone's on the same page.

Except on Michael's corner, where Dukie, who supervises the morning shift (while Michael is out killing people, presumably), is getting no respect from Marcus, Spider, and Kenard. Mike sends him home, and later that night relieves him of his duties, reasoning that if he were to get locked up, it would put Bug in a bad situation. He's doing enough as Bug's male nanny to justify getting paid. Dukie leaves the room, disappointed.

McNulty's back, front and center, drinking, philandering, and getting pissed off that a group of drug dealers are getting the best of him. Basically, it's just like old times. I already knew that he was going to be back in a prominent role this season, but I still got a little excited when I saw him, up on the rooftop of Booker T. Washington, stalking Marlo with Dozerman. You had to love it when Doze told him the story he heard about the brothel bust in Season 2, when Jimmy engages himself in a threesome with a couple of the prostitutes. McNulty denies it with a smile, a bit amused. His exploits are legendary. Let the record show that The Wire is always better when James McNulty is a major player. Dominic West is a terrific actor.

Clark Johnson, who plays Baltimore Sun editor Gus Haynes, made a very impressive debut. The media and it's role in this mess is the main theme for Season 5, and it looks like the newsroom is going to be an interesting place, with Johnson patrolling the place with wit and charisma.

Bubs is clean, Herc lost his job (as a police officer; he works for Levy now), and no sign of Omar, Cutty, or Bunny yet (or Prez, Namond, or Randy, for that matter). Carver is a sergeant now, but it's a rough go for him. None of the cops are getting paid, and a mutinity may be around the corner. Carcetti made a lot ofpromises, but it appears he will honor the ones made to the schools first, and the police are the ones taking the hit. By the time the hour was up, MC had been disbanded again due to more budget-cutting, the detectives dispersed back to their original units. Marlo just may be unstoppable.

With all that said, the most memorable scene of the night was the opening one, Bunk, Norton (oops - I meant Norris), and "Professor" Landsman duping a boy into copping to a murder, using his accomplice, McDonald's, three sheets of paper, a printer, some good ol' fashioned untruths, and stacking them on top of each other. You know, standard police tricks. As Bunk put it, "The bigger the lie, the more they believe."

The table has been set.

The Sports Year in Review, 2007: Pictures

BONDS

He swore to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth, so help him God. And then he lied (allegedly).


VICK

Go to google and type in "Mike Vick, dogfighting" and you'll see a picture that explains why I can't defend him wholeheartedly on this one.


O.J.

The face of a very devious man. Orenthal looks so sneaky in this picture it makes me laugh.


TIGER

He kicks Rory's ass by day, wins his own tournaments by night.


FEDERER

THE.BEST.EVER.




BOXING

This...

+

this...


=


Athlete of the Year (arguably).




MLB

For what it's worth, he broke the record.



Instant crediblity.



Incredible run, even if a week and a half later, reality would kick back in.



Another monster year, another MVP for the best baseball player alive (maybe ever). But still no ring. (More money, though.)



Sox win again! Dynastic designs?



Baseball's Earl Warren




NBA

Where the new Shaq happens.



Where Isiah happens.



Where the Celtics are good again happens.



Where IV happens.



Where schizophrenia happens.



Where a legend going over the hill happens.





Where LeBron happens.



Where I can't believe this is happening and I don't know what to do about it happens.



Where Nellie working his magic in the Bay happens.




NCAA


A good year to be a Gator...



...and a bad year to play them if you went to Ohio State.



Better than AD?



Superman.



Stanford topples Southern Cal. Biggest D-1 on D-1 upset ever?



Everybody's faster than the Big Ten. Even App State.



Stanford topples Southern Cal. Biggest D-1 on D-1 upset ever?



Everybody's faster than the Big Ten. Even App State.






O.J. Mayo recruits YOU.




NFL

The monkey off their backs (especially the one on the right.)



Do not anger this man.



Belichick: "You ungrateful sonofabitch, when I get the chance, I'm going to kill you."



The Globetrotters celebrate another touchdown.



Brady: "Are you my Caucasian?" Moss: "I'm yo' muthafuckin' caucasian!"



All day.



Weasel.


EMMITT, ESPN



HELIO, DANCING STAR



R.I.P.

Dick Nolan



Dennis Johnson



Sean Taylor



Evel Knievel



Ernie Ladd



Darrent Williams



Phil Rizzuto



Eddie Robinson



Rod Beck



Daryl Stingley

The Wire: An American Tragedy

Seen the new teasers for The Wire? Marlo being a dick? Omar out for blood? Bubs, clean? Carcetti, making promises? McNutty drinking and being a dog again, the way it's supposed to be?

How about the prequels? A neophyte Omar, with little experience but the same code? A young Prop Joe, showing how he got his nickname? McNutty and Bunk, meeting (and getting plastered together) for the very first time?

Boy, does HBO know promotion. Of course, most of you don't even know what I'm talking about. Many subscribe to Home Box Office, but according to the Nielsen Ratings, very few of them watch The Wire, barely enough to get the show re-upped after each season expires. The newest season of perhaps the finest program in the history of American television debuts January 6. There will be 10 more episodes, and then no more. In it's wake, TV will never be the same.

It's hard to pigeonhole The Wire. It is many things. It's a cop show, a drug dealer show, a politics show, a school show. Overall, though, it's a society show, and a very realistically bleak one. It's urban decay and it's causes seen through the teary eyes of Baltimore, MD, and it is classic. What makes it so great, in particular? For time's sake, let's narrow it down to three factors:

1. The characters. Ah, the characters. There's Jimmy McNulty (played by Dominic West) the obsessive detective with the good intentions, even if they're driven by his own considerable ego. McNulty posseses a burning desire to outsmart the people he's chasing, and he will attempt to satisfy his vanity at any cost - even if it means going over his superiors and alienating himself in the long run. In his spare time - and sometimes even on the job - he's a borderline alcoholic and hedonist with a fucked up relationship with the mother of his kids. In season four, things were looking up - he was sober and in a stable relationship. As the promos show, however, he's fallen off the wagon. Good to have him back.

Bubbles (Andre Royo) is the homeless heroine addict/police informer/mentor. In the first three seasons, he worked as a snitch to earn money to feed his addiction. By the end of season 4, he was no longer using, but his life was still in shambles. After a misintended vial of cyanide killed his protege, Sherrod, Bubs failed at a suicide attempt and was last seen in a psych ward, distraught with guilt over what he had done. Hey, at least he didn't get charged.

Friends since childhood, Avon Barksdale (Wood Harris) and Stringer Bell (Idris Elba) ran the West Baltimore drug scene in the beginning of the series, and they shared a bond as close as brothers. But they were two very different men, and they disagreed on the methods by which they would run their operation. Stringer, intelligent, cunning, stoic, and deceitful, was an aspiring real estate developer that wanted to rectify the drug trade by transforming it into a legitimate industry. Avon, on the other hand, was pure, unadulterated gangster - he wanted his corners and treasured his reputation. While Stringer looked to resolve issues by talking things out in a civil manner that benefited everyone, like businessmen, Avon preferred to head to the mattresses and shoot it out like the thug that he was. Their clashes in philosophy would lead to a double betrayal - one that left Avon behind bars and Stringer dead in one of his development sites.

Only for a new power to emerge, led by the heartless sociopath Marlo Stanfield (Jamie Hector), who rules his territory with an iron fist. Marlo is the very personification of evil, and he has surrounded himself with people of the same ilk - like coldblooded killers Chris (Gbenga Akkinagbe) and Snoop (Felicia Pearson), who are down to take out anyone - even a sweet delivery store lady and a hardworking security guard - without the slightest hint of conscience. Very unsettling.

And then, of course, we have Omar (Michael K. Williams), the legendary stickup man. Omar is The Antithesis: He doesn't harm civilians, he admonishes the use of curse words, he whistles the melody to "The Farmer In The Dell" to announce his presence, and, as if that weren't contrary enough, guess what? He's gay! All while being 100% lethal. You can't make this stuff up. He's a wild-card, in every sense of the word. With his distinguishable shotgun and long trenchcoat, his uncanny ability to avoid death despite a seemingly constant bounty on his head, and his undeniable skill and intelligence, Omar is a ghetto action hero.

And he's one of the shows most popular characters. Others are quite loathsome. But none of them are boring. You feel some way about them, and all of them bring something to the table.

Of course, it helps to have great actors. You can't write the charm and charisma Williams has created in Omar, or the soulessness seen in Marlo's eyes through Hector, or the realness Harris brought to Avon. A flawless piece of casting.

2. The realism. The first time I watched The Wire, on BET, the most enduring memory I took away from the experience was how true it seemed. How gritty. From the scenes of D'Angelo, Bodie, and Co. chilling on the couch in the low-rises, to the get-together at the strip club, to the beatdown of Johnny Weeks, everything that happened seemed so... authentic. I've never been to West Baltimore before, but I imagine that it's just like that. And it almost certainly is - the show's creator/exec producer/lead writer, David Simon, is a former police reporter for the Baltimore Sun, and his co-founder, Ed Burns, is an erstwhile Baltimore city detective and school teacher.

I've never seen a more genuine-feeling show in my life.

3. Complexity/Social relevance. The Sopranos, for the most part, was a show about a man and his struggles with his two families. What made it so special was that this man, Anthony John Soprano Sr., was the greatest single character in the history of televsion, aided by an extraordinary supporting cast. Plus, the writing and directing was transcendent. The Sopranos is the reason a show like The Wire even exists.

But The Wire goes much deeper. It touches on an entire American city. In the words of Simon, it's a show that denounces the thought of good and evil, and instead focuses on institutions, and how we are compromised by them. It's about contending. Nowhere is that more evident than in Season Four, which focuses on four eighth-grade friends trapped by their circumstances and environment.

There's Namond, son of a trifling mother that wants him to follow in the footsteps of his father, a respected former Barksdale hitter now serving a life sentence for multiple murders. Namond's not built for the game, but he feels constant pressure from his mother not to disappoint, so he tries.

Michael is the leader, and he's got potential as a boxer, but he's saddled with a drug addict mother, and thus is responsible with raising both himself and his younger brother, Bug. It is also strongly suggested that he was once the victim of child molestation - and when the perceived perpetrator, Bug's father, returns from a stint in prison, Michael has no other choice: He arranges for the murder of the man by striking a deal with Marlo, in which he agrees to become a dealer and soldier for Stanfield.

Randy lives in foster care. One day he takes $5 to be the lookout during a sexual tryst in a school bathroom, but when the girl lies rape, he's pinned as an accomplice by his jackass principal. In order to avoid suspension and possible expulsion, he offers to give up everything he's got - including a murder. When word gets out that he's a snitch - the ultimate stigma in the streets - he becomes a piranha. (Post-post correction: I was just watching American Gangster and noticed Frank Lucas' partner saying the word "pariah" when it hit me: "Wait a minute, did I call Randy a piranha in that Wire piece I did a while back?" And sure enough, I am an idiot. I deserve some credit though: I could've just snuck in and changed it, and anybody reading it for the first time would've had no idea. Which probably makes me even more of an idiot. Hey, if you guys - I say "you guys" like I have a readership - see a mistake like that in something I write, drop me a note in the comments section. Point it out. Make fun of me. I gotta learn, man. I gotta learn.) Trust me, it's no way to live; my sophomore year in high school, I told my blind religion teacher that the answers were on the tests, and I became public enemy No. 1. Of course, the most they did was call me names; Randy's gets his house set on fire, causing his foster mother to be severely burned. And so he gets lost in the system again - last we saw of him, he was getting pummeled by three boys in a group home, the words "SNITCH BITCH" spraypainted on the side of his bunkbed.

Duquan is arguably the smartest of the bunch, but he comes from a hopeless family of fiends, and eventually, he's out on the corner, too. Only Namond is saved. One out of four ain't good enough.

The first season tells the story of the police unit's efforts to bring down the Barksdale crew, from both points-of-view. The second season looks at the unfortunate situation of the blue collar worker, through the longshoreman of the city docks. Season Three dealt with the aspects of reform, and Season Four tackled education. The final season focuses on the media. If I were to predict an ending, I would guess that it won't be a particularly good one; but rather, one that reflects the lack of positive change in the inner city. In other words, The Wire will be just as messed up in the end as it was in the beginning. We remain stagnant.

Why won't many people watch it, despite the widespread critical acclaim? Simon has ascribed the low viewership to several factors, including the complicated plot line, the heavy use of slang a largely black cast, and an unfavorable time slot. In my view, it's the fact that most of the people that can afford to pay for premium channel's like HBO just can't connect to The Wire, because they don't understand it. It's nowhere near them, it doesn't reach them, it doesn't affect them. And even some of those that are impacted by it don't want to watch it on TV. My grandmother, who's black, refuses to watch The Wire. I got her to watch The Sopranos, and she makes an effort to catch the late airing of Curb our Enthusiasm every night. But she will never watch The Wire. To her, it's just another means of exploiting African Americans. She believes young black men are more likely to become engaged by the attractive aspects of the corner life portrayed on the show (the money) than discouraged by it's peril's (it can ruin your life). Thus, in her opinion, a show like The Wire only serves to further keep the black race down.

Obviously, I think she's got it all wrong. I don't see the show as helping or hurting anybody, just reflecting the world through my TV screen.

The Wire is one of the saddest stories ever told, but it's also one of the most well-done, and I'm officially counting down the days until the final chapter begins. If only more people found it as interesting.

"There's Only One Floyd Mayweather!!!"

I just wrote this post last week, but here I am writing it again, only this time it's about one of the best individual athletes in the world, rather than the best team. In a lot of ways, Floyd Mayweather Jr. is the boxing equivalent of the New England Patriots. I mean, think about it: They're both multiple-time champions. They're both undefeated. They both scored knockout victories over supposedly formidable opponents over the weekend. They've both mastered the art of playing the villain. And nobody likes them.

Here goes another similarity: They're both all-timers. After the Patriots finish off their perfect season with a triumph over the Cowboys in Phoenix this February, we'll crown them not only as the greatest football team of 2007, but as the greatest in the history of the sport. Likewise, it's time to start putting Mayweather's decade-long domination of boxing into a larger historical perspective. Maybe he'll fight again, maybe he won't, but after his vanquishing of Ricky Hatton in Las Vegas on Saturday, it doesn't matter; without question, Mayweather's polishing of The Hitman cemented his status as not only the defining boxer of his era, but as one of best fighters ever, period. Mayweather is Pernell Whitaker with a little more offense; that will be dismissed as boxing sacrilege by many, but it's true. Many more won't even consider it, because even after two incredibly high-profile fights in one year, they still barely even know who Mayweather is, or don't really care. Which is ashame.

You see, the reports of boxing's demise have been greatly exaggerated. Unlike hip-hop, it is not dead. Understand, the heavyweight division has been buried for a few years now, but boxing as a whole is alive and well. I've written it before, and I'll write it again: The little guys are excellent. Not on par with the Hearns-Hagler-Leonard-Duran contingent of the 80's, obviously, but still, excellent. Even with B-Hop and Winky having jumped the shark, and maybe Tarver, too, the middleweight still touts studs like unbeaten champ Kelly Pavlik, unbeaten Calzaghe, and one-loss former title-holder Jerman Taylor, who's only defeat came at the hands of Pavlik in September in arguably the most exciting fight of the year. In Mayweather's welterweight division, we have young undefeated champions Paul Williams and Miguel Cotto, as well as Antonio Margarito, Zab Judah, an aging but still game Shane Mosley, the always lurking Oscar, and Hatton. And then we have the world's most exciting fighter, Manny Pacquiao, in the featherweight division, along with fellow warriors Erik Morales and Marco Antonio Barrera. It's a murderer's row of talent in the non-heavyweight weigh classes, they offer great matchups and they usually give you your money's worth. Perhaps the question isn't whether or not boxing is dead, but if it's fans are. And if you only loved boxing for Tyson and Holyfield, you never really loved it in the first place.

I didn't always like boxing, but I love it now, mostly because of the charismatic Mayweather, the undisputed pound-for-pound king. If you followed sports even a little bit, you probably already knew Oscar, but leading up to their Cinco de Mayo bout, not many casual fans were familiar with Floyd. I definitely didn't know who he was. I doled out my $54.95 because I didn't want to miss out on the "Fight to Save Boxing," and ended up becoming semi-infatuated with Mayweather, a boisterous, bratty clinitian with a unique story. Mayweather was born into the sport, the son and nephew of two former boxers who are the very personification of sibling discontent. Floyd Jr. doesn't get along with his daddy, Floyd Sr., who was replaced by his brother, Roger, as Little Floyd's trainer after Little Floyd fired Big Floyd. The two would be estranged for seven years. And Roger hasn't talked to Big Floyd since '97. You follow that? SI and ESPN painted Floyd as foul-mouthed, disrespectful, immature and unabashed about flaunting his success and the riches it's brought him, but also as the most physically gifted and skilled fighter alive.

And all of it's true. Watch any episode of HBO's two seasons 24/7 and you see why many root against Floyd. He depicts himself as a total asshole at all times, the perfect foil to classy guys like Hatton and De la Hoya, the quintessential heel. The difference between myself and those who cheer is that I choose to assume it's mostly an act. I'm sure Mayweather is cocky, but not to the exaggerated extent he portrays in public. And since I believe that this persona is likely more of a marketing/promotion tool to sell fights, which is part of his job, than a reflection of his true self, I have no problem rooting for him. I find him quite entertaining and refreshing, in the vein of Chad Johnson. I haven't enjoyed a villainous character this much since Kurt Angle.

And even those that don't appreciate Mayweather's act outside the ring must respect his work inside it. At 39-0, the six-time world champion in five different weight classes is now deserving of legendary status, or at least consideration for it. Hit up YouTube to check out the best parts of his demolition of Carlos Baldomir, and you see an exhibit on sharpshooting and defense. Watch clips of his beatdown of Philip Ndou and witness a scintialating display of "pocket" power punching. He is versatile and artful. As with Ndou, he stopped Arturo Gatti and the late Diego Corrales, and as with Baldomir he outclassed and easily outpointed Judah. And, of course, he won a clear decision over De la Hoya earlier this year in the most lucrative fight ever.

But he etched his legacy in stone this weekend, against Hatton, the tough Brit brawler with a knockout of Jose Luis Castillo on his resume, something not even Floyd can claim after two fights against the Mexican warrior. Yet that didn't stop Mayweather from putting on a performance that can't be fully appreciated until you reflect on it. Watching the fight live, I thought the first half of the bout was about even, with Floyd too willing too let Hatton back him into the ropes, instead of doing everything in his power to keep the action in the center of the ring. In retrospect, Mayweather was clearly biding his time, feeling out his opponent, before taking over in the latter rounds. Like all of his matches, he was very methodical, and as in his fight with Oscar, he refused to let the style of the fight be dictated by his opponent. And it culminated in a 10th-round TKO that left the previously untouchable Hatton on his back for the first time in his career, stunned and embarrassed in front of his raucous apostles from the UK.

Mayweather's tender hands have discouraged him from going for knockouts in recent years, but when he smelled blood in the deciding round against Hatton, he went for the kill. Mayweather is a coldblooded tactician on par with Kobe Bryant and Tom Brady, the world's third greatest non-team sports star behind Tiger and Federer, and one of the best boxers of this or any other time frame.

Time to take heed.

America Should Embrace the Pats

Last night's Pats-Ravens instant classic was only the second craziest Monday Night game of the season, behind Week Five's 'Boys-Bills contest, but it was crazy nonetheless, one of the goofiest endings to a football game you'll ever see. The stuffed Brady sneak that was nullified by an ill-advised Baltimore timeout, the false start by Russ Hochstein that negated a minus-one run by Heath Evans - both on fourth-and-1 - and the tipped Brady pass that hung in the air for what seemed like forever, only to hit the ground before any Raven could get to it. Then, just when everyone thought it was over, Kyle Boller throws a hail mary that's caught at the two-yard line by Mark Clayton before he gets brought down. A fitting end to an insanely exciting game.

An an incredibly lucky win for the Patriots, who should have lost that game on a number of different occasions. Of course, that's not a knock; as we all know, all great teams are lucky. And this is a great team. Battle-tested, been-there-done-that, and you have to cut off their heads to kill them. Quite the admirable football team. And that's why I have no problem telling people that I don't live in Boston but love the Patriots. I know, I know, I'm a frontrunner, I'm a bandwagoner, blah blah blah. I've heard it all before. Trust me. It's just that the Pats are the NFL's villains, and I look rooting for the villain. Many people do. Marlo, Chris, and Snoop are too trifling to cheer on, but I absolutley wanted Avon, Stringer, and Wee-Bey to escape McNulty's wrath. And like every other American, I loved Tony, Chrissy, Paulie, and Sil. They were bad guys too, remember? But they were such likable and charismatic characters, nobody cared and many people forgot.

This Patriots team resonates the same way for me. Belichick has personality without having personality. His smug arrogance and drollish tone at press conferences is kind of cool to me, for some reason. He has such a disdain for all things media-related that it's almost comical. He definitely stands out, much like Phil Jackson and Bobby Knight, two other jerks that I'm rather fond of. More importantly, Belichick is one of the greatest football minds of all-time. Talk all you want about SpyGate, but I wouldn't give a damn if he was James Bond; it wouldn't change the fact that the man is a genius at his craft. I respect that. Then you have Brady, who everybody actually likes; he's the ultimate team player and he's probably the best quarterback to ever play the game, if you really think about it. No other quarterback with multiple rings has ever played at as high a level as Brady has played this year. After 12 games this season, Brady has already thrown 10 more touchdowns than Joe Montana ever threw. And Moss is just the most gifted receiver in the history of the game, comparable to Jerry Rice in production when he's appropriately motivated. For 10 games this season, Moss played his position better than it's ever been played before. The defensive backs were like props. This team has five surefire Hall-of-Famers on it (Belichick, Brady, Moss, and Seau) and Richard Seymour will likely end up in Canton some day, too. They have the best slot receiver in football, innocent little Wes Welker. They have Willie McGinest 2.0, Adelius Thomas. The heart of the defense is the veteran champion linebackers, Vrabel and Bruschi, who continue to getting in combined year number twenty-three. Throw in the unheralded offensive line and underrated defensive stars Vince Wilfork and Asante Samuel, and this is one of the most talented teams ever. Their loftiness is palpable, and none of them ooze it more than Belichick, but he's sort of earned it. Besides, it's not like the guy has ever been accused of beating his wife or anything like that. There are far worse men in sports than Bill Belichick. Give the guy a break.

Listen, this Patriots team is a dynasty, and they have a real shot at making history, although it won't be easy. Pittsburgh has the scheme and personnel to pull off the upset, and very well might. But I wouldn't bet on it, and no matter how much you want it to happen, neither will any of you. Whether it's last year's playoff slugfest with the Chargers or their survival's the past two weeks against Philly and Bodymore, Belichick's Patriots have proven time and time again that they are a resilient champion that thrives in pressure situations. For years, they've taken their opponent's best punch and come right back with some haymakers of their own, and at the end of the night, they usually have their arms raised in triumph.

People love that plot so much Sylvester Stallone's still making movies about it. This country loves Rocky. When will it learn to love these Pats the same?

Howard and Bynum and Foyle, Oh My!!!

Once I found out the definite matchup for this year's BCS title game was going to be LSU-Ohio State, which Brad Edwards had already guaranteed earlier in the day on ESPNEWS, I was free to watch the Lakers host the Magic Sunday night. No need to watch anymore coverage on college football for the rest of the season; there's only one game left that matters, and we all know LSU is going to make the Buckeyes look like they're playing with 200-pound ankle weights on. I'm not even gonna watch the game.

Anyways, as I was saying, tonight's game at Staples matched up the NBA's two best nubile centers, Dwight Howard and Andrew Bynum. Quite frankly, there's no comparison. Bynum is an impressive young big man, without question. He's only 20, he's averaging a double-double, and he's getting better by the minute. But aside from the impossibly soft hands, which obviously can't be taught, nothing about Bynum seems natural. He's very robotic, and nothing he does looks uncultivated. Not that it matters, but it seems like the Lakers drafted him because he was a true seven-footer with long arms, then hired Kareem to teach him how to play. Kareem's very own basketball creation, if you will. So to speak. Or what have you.

Howard, on the other hand, was born to play basketball. He's built like a more compact David Robinson. He's still kind of raw, definitely; he's not as smooth and fluid as Tim Duncan, a born low-post scorer whose moves have always looked neat and refined, and probably never will be. Whereas Duncan is a ballerina that always seems to be going in slow-motion, a finesse player that hurries no movements, Howard is a rough, tough, broad-shouldered banger with supreme quickness and hops, a thicker Amare Stoudemire. He loves contact and dunks everything he possibly can. What seperates him from Amare, though, is his rebounding (Garnett-esque because of his energy and desire) and defense. Last night, he looked like the most intimidating shotblocker in the league. He got to five and altered many others. Not only does he change shots, he changes minds about shooting altogether, as in "I'm in the paint and I'm about to take this three-footer...on second thought, Dwight Howard is standing right here and there's a solid chance he's gonna spike the ball into the fifth row the second it leaves my hand. I think I'll just pass instead." Plus, he's obviously a hard worker that is serious about getting better - he expanded his range this summer, and as he continues to develop a reliable back-to-the-basket game and learns to pass out of the double-teams that will come along with it, he will move closer and closer to utter dominance. Remember, he's only 22 and he's averaging 24 and 15 with 3 blocks. How good is he gonna be at 28?

The funniest moment of the night happened when he picked up his second foul in the first quarter and Adonal Foyle checked in for him. Adonal actually played well (11 minutes, 8 points on 4-of-4 shooting and 7 boards), but when I saw him I still couldn't help but think of everytime Matt Cassel comes in for Tom Brady with the Patriots up 78-0. I have to say, it struck me as mildy hilarious. But it wasn't the dropoff in talent that got me as much as it was their dissimilar physiques. Here you have Howard, this strapping young lad with the perfect basketball body, and then all of a sudden here comes Adonal, who must weigh about three bills at this point. Hey, I like Adonal Foyle; he seems like a nice guy, and I had a similar career to his in my CYO days of the seventh and eighth grade. And I weigh more than he does. Actually, come to think of it, maybe that's why it was so funny to me: Stan Van Gundy could've checked me into the game and you wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. It resonated with me on that level.