Upon Further Review...

Hear ye, hear ye... the new baby has arrived.   

A seven-pound, 13-ounce beautiful baby boy.

Everyone is happy and healthy and VERY tired.   More on that in future blogs.

For now I have called on a friend to give his thoughts on a different type of labor situation.  Enjoy!

Sir Bacon

Last Wednesday the Cowboys and defending Super Bowl Champion Giants opened the NFL’s 93^rd Season, kicking off week one which featured 32 teams, playing 16 games by nearly 1700 players.

Usually these 1,700 players would be accompanied by over 100 of the best officials in the game.  Not this year.

Because of a labor impasse, the normal NFL Officials were replaced by a hodgepodge of zebras who showed during the pre-season they aren’t quite yet ready for Prime Time. Or Game Time. Or any time other than a Time Out - and not to stop the clock but to stand in the corner after they messed up.

A few weeks ago the Buffalo Bills downed a punt at the opponent’s 4-yard line in a pre-season game. Or so they thought. For reasons no one can explain, the official on the play ruled the ball was downed in the end zone and it was a touchback and spotted the ball at the 20-yard line. The Bills challenged the play on replay and won, but what would have happened if they had no challenges left and this was a real game?

When it comes to officiating I am biased – I admit it. I have been officiating games of some sort for over 30 years. I started doing Little League games before I could drive and for the last 10 years I have done High School Basketball.

Before that I did Youth Leagues for a handful of years. I did over 1,000 Youth Games before I did one High School Game. I thought I was pretty good and I was – or so I thought.
Looking back 10+ years later – YIKES! I am a much better official now and my rating proves it as does the level of games I do. 

I worked my way “up the ladder” to the point where my assignor can trust me in big games because he has seen me handle stressful situations. I honed my craft and worked to get better. 

These replacement officials haven’t had that training.
The last time replacement officials were used the NFL was able to get officials from the top college football conference.

This time they are not. 

Now we are getting officials from lower level conferences and that is not good. The biggest difference in the college and pro game is speed. Lower level college games are played at 33 RPM (Kiddies – ask your parents about this one). BCS Conference games are played at 45 RPM. The NFL is played at 78 RPM and that is a huge difference. The difference in RPM from 33 to 78 might not seem like much but it is.

One of the replacement NFL Officials comes from the Lingerie Football League. Fans don’t pay admission to LFL games – they pay a cover charge, have a 2-drink minimum and must be 21 to enter and then face the wrath of their wife when they get home.

Yesterday this official was focused on the tight end of the nubile tight end wearing a G-string thong and fishnet stockings (perhaps hoping that he can get called for illegal use of the hands).

Today he is in the NFL, face-to-face with 300-pound players whose bodies resemble a vending machine with a neck and legs. 

Officiating is the only profession where those involved are expected to be perfect from Day One – and then improve from there. What we are seeing now is officials who hope to be right most of the time and realize “Big Brother” (Instant Replay) can bail them out if/when they mess up. Officials need two eyes to see a play and not one eye on a play and another eye focused upstairs to a replay official.

The NFL is a $9 BILLION a year entity. What the Officials are asking for monetarily is peanuts compared to what the NFL generates in a day, let alone a year. 

There is a saying in golf that you can’t win a tourney on the first 18 holes but you can lose one. Everyone seems to focus all their attention on the last few games of the NFL season as being most important, but the games played in September are every bit as important as those in December. The chances of a blown officials’ call changing the outcome of a game is very real and that one bad call might cost your team a playoff spot and the chance to win the Super Bowl.

The Golden Rule in life asks people to treat others as they would treat themselves. In business – The Golden Rule states “He who has the Gold makes the rules.” In the NFL the Owners have the Gold while the Officials interpret the rules. The Owners need to realize Gold is priceless – Fools Gold is worthless. Right now the Owners have “Fools Gold” for Officials and unless something is done to bring the “real” ones back ASAP the NFL might see their Gold be nothing more than Cubic Zirconium.

Baby On Board

Where was I...

Oh yeah, my wife is pregnant.

Very pregnant.

32 weeks pregnant.

We go by weeks now.

But considering what it’s taken to get here, it’s more like day-to-day.

At the ripe old age of 42, getting pregnant is the last thing my wife expected.

Definitely not the last thing she wanted.

But after driving down this road many times, the only thing she could see was a dead end.

But for a reason way beyond us, this time it has worked.

There’s no explaining why it worked.

And considering it took me two tries to barely pass biology.

I’m definitely not the one to do the explaining.

I’ve left that part to the doctors.

And we saw plenty of them.

Including one of those reproductive specialists.

Dr. Bush.

(That still makes me laugh.)

(Come on, a reproductive doctor named Dr. Bush?)

(Really!)

Anywhoo...

Visit after visit.

We learned pretty much nothing about why.

Or in our case why not.

What I did learn is that doctors make my wife nervous.

So nervous, she makes up words.

Like, “examinating.”

Examine, that’s a word.

Examinating, not so much.

And she’s got a Master’s degree.

My wife and I are the proud parents of three children.

Proud!

Three healthy, happy children.

We are blessed beyond belief.

But like Dick Van Patten, three was not enough for us.

We’d been trying for seven years to bring another member to this family.

Which may sound like fun to a horny teenager.

But it’s no fun when you are 44.

No fun for me.

Hell for my wife.

Maybe it’s a male/female thing.

Maybe it’s more than that.

My wife and I are very different.

And that’s not necessarily a bad thing.

I come from an extremely small family.

Both my mother and my father had no brothers.

And no sisters.

I have spent most of my life calling people Uncle and Aunt.

Even though we didn’t share the same blood.

My wife has a much bigger pool to pull from.

A brother and a sister.

Nieces and nephews.

Uncles and Aunts.

Real ones.

Cousins and more cousins.

But that’s hardly the only difference between us.

Hardly.

She was born in South Korea.

I was born in San Diego.

She was raised Catholic.

I am was raised Jewish.

Very Jewish.

She moved to the United States when she was three so that her parents could chase the the American dream.

My father was the first person to earn a ring from both the World Series AND Super Bowl.

Not bad for a 5-foot-9 white guy from Jersey City.

My wife and I met in college.

We were actually friends years before she fell in love with me.

What a concept.

We dated for a few years.

I proposed.

We got married.

We moved cross country for my job.

Did I leave out any details?

Maybe a few, but keep reading.

The year was 1997 and my wife and I decided that we were ready to start a family.

Three years after we got married.

I was approaching 30.   She had just turned 27.

On a Saturday morning we announced to the baby doctor that we were hoping to get pregnant.

Moments later the doc announced to us that we already were.

Pregnant.

Surprise!

Wow, that doctor works fast.

We had no idea when we sat down in the office that nature had already taken its course.

But with a little test in a cup, we got the very exciting news.

40 or so weeks later, give or take, our little girl arrived.

It was a very normal pregnancy.

As pregnancies go.

The little guy was pretty much no different.

We met him 21 months later.

By that point we figured that getting pregnant was not only fun.

But easy.

So we tried again.

And again.

And again.

A couple of times it actually worked.

And then it didn’t.

Only my therapist gets those details.

But the bottom line is we had come to grips that if a pair was good enough for Noah.

It had to be good for us. 

Little did we know that in the fall of 2003, we’d turn that pair into three-of-a-kind.

Another beautiful baby girl.

Born in October of that year.

Healthy.

And funny too.

There wasn’t a day during that pregnancy that any of us took anything for granted.

I think we spent more time in the doctor’s office than Cliff Huxtable.

But the end result was a healthy child.

And that was all that mattered.

We knew for sure that she would be it for us.

Until now.

I’m not sure my wife really believed it when the test came back positive.

But with something the size of a basketball now sitting under her shirt, she’s a believer now.

And we couldn’t be more excited.

We, meaning my wife and I.

Our three other kids.... well, that’s been a work in progress.

Oh, don’t get me wrong, they are excited.

Now.

But each of them had a very different reaction when they first heard the news.

The youngest, eight.

Of course she was sold right away.

So happy about “the gift in mommy’s tummy.”

She credits Santa Claus.

As she should.

The boy, 13.

He was disgusted upon hearing the news.

After all, it was just a year earlier that his principal gave his class “The Talk.”

Yes, THAT talk.

And he had a hard time digesting that his parents were involved in such debauchery. 

Then there was our oldest.

The 15-year-old girl.

She was terrified.

Terrified that when this thing comes out.

And she has to take it to the grocery store.

Somebody might actually think it is hers.

Thanks MTV!

But even with the early hiccups, everyone is on board now.

We even have the crib.

Courtesy of some friends who don’t plan on getting pregnant at 42.

With a couple of months still to go, we are still taking it day-by-day.

But those days seems to be moving a lot faster now.

Safety First

The big winner in Sunday’s Super Bowl was not Eli Manning.

Ok, it was Eli Manning.

But it was also some guy whose name shall remain nameless.

That’s because we don’t know what it is.

In fact, we don’t even know if it’s a guy.

But I’m betting on it.

What we do know is someone stepped to the counter at the MGM Sports Book in Las Vegas before Sunday’s game.

And made a $1,000 bet.

Ok, a lot of people stepped to the counter at the MGM Sports Book before Sunday’s game and made a $1,000 bet.

But this was not just any bet.

This was a stupid bet.

Insanely stupid bet.

Only problem is... it hit.

BIG.

One of the many beautiful things about the Super Bowl is the gambling.

You can bet on anything.

Literally anything.

You could bet on whether Madonna would wear an NFL Jersey during her halftime performance.

She did not.

You could also bet on whether the coin flip would land on heads or tails.

Remember, tails never fails.

Except Sunday.

You could even bet on how long Kelly Clarkson’s version of the National Anthem would go.

Now I love gambling as much as Kenny Rogers.

But some things just aren’t worth your time.

Or your money.

As Kenny said, you gotta know when to walk away.

Fortunately for our aforementioned nameless gambler, he didn’t know when to walk away.

In fact, thanks to his addiction he is $50,000 richer tonight.

Assuming he didn’t lose it all at the Video Poker machines.

You see our little gambler went all Phil Collins on us.

Betting against all odds.

The MGM Sports Book offered 50-to-1 odds that the first score of the game Sunday would be a safety.

By the Giants.

Not just a safety.

A play that rarely-to-never happens.

But a safety by a specific team.

As the first score of the game.

Now these “prop” bets as they are called are a lot of fun.

And there are a million of them.

Which team will call the first timeout.

Will there be an onside kick in the game.

Will Eli Manning make one of those goofy faces after his receiver runs the wrong route.

When it comes to the Super Bowl, you can bet on anything.

Now I must admit, I do love sitting in the sports book and throwing some cash down on those crazy bets.

$5 here.

$5 there.

20 prop bets later you’re down $100.

But you had a bunch of “free” drinks.

Inhaled a lot of second hand smoke.

And had a great time.

But to bet $1,000 on something that never happens.

Houston, we have a serious gambling problem.

Only this year.

It happened.

On the Giants first defensive play of the game.

They got a safety.

In a matter of seconds, New York’s first two points turned this man’s 1k into 50k.

Just.

Like.

That.

Now how unlikely was this occurrence?

Well, let's do the math.

This was Super Bowl XLVI.

And in the previous XLV games.

A safety happened just VI times.

That’s six times for those of you who don’t speak capital letter numbers.

Six times.

In 46 games.

And of those six times.

The safety was the first score of the game.

Just once.

XXXVII years ago.

Now just because I can’t afford to spend $1,000 on a prop bet doesn’t mean our little gambler can’t afford it.

In fact, the $50,000 he won might just be pocket money.

But I’m going to go out on a limb and say that his bet on the Safety wasn’t his only bet of the game.

For all I know -- he might’ve thrown 10 geez down that red would be the gatorade bath color for the winning coach.

Those odds were 13-2.

Or he might’ve bet 25k that Eli would have more completions on Sunday than LeBron would have points.

Which he did not.

Now I’m certainly not here to say that gambling is bad.

At our Super Bowl party on Sunday we sold Super Bowl squares to each of the guests.

And my 14-year-old daughter was the big winner.

She turned a 50-cent square into $20.

If only we would've raised those stakes.

I'm a Tebowliever

Let me begin with this disclaimer.

I am a huge fan of the Oakland Raiders.

Diehard.

And that’s what this team does to its fans.

It kills us.

Yes, we have won three Super Bowls.

But the last one happened when I was in high school.

And lets just say that the silver in my hair has nothing do with the Raiders colors.

Good or bad I haven’t missed a game all year.

Including last week’s disaster in Miami.

This week’s disaster in Green Bay.

And next week’s disaster against Detroit.

But we will bounce back.

We always do.

And then we will lose again.

We always do that too.

Screw the box of chocolates.

Life is like the Raiders.

You never know what you’re gonna get.

Win or lose, they are my Raiders.

And they’ve got my unconditional love.

But reality is reality.

Whatever we had going for us a few weeks ago.

Is gone.

Long gone.

The way things are going right now, there’s a better chance of me running a marathon.

Uphill.

Both ways.

Barefoot.

In a snowstorm.

Than there is the Raiders making the playoffs.

The same can’t be said for the rival Denver Broncos.

It was really cute two months ago when their lovable lefty quarterback pulled out a miracle win against the Dolphins.

But then he did it again.

Against the Raiders.

And the Chiefs.

And the Jets.

And the Chargers.

And the Vikings.

But what happened on Sunday against the Bears was nothing short of divine interception.

Ok, it was a fumble.

But you get the point.

Houdini would’ve blushed at the way this game finished.

This ending was so far fetched, I thought I was watching the Buffalo Wild Wings commercial.

Tim Tebow is far from perfect when it comes to playing a football game.

But when it comes to talking the right game, he is a Hall of Famer.

Humble.

Optimistic.

Fearless.

I could go on all day.

I’ve got thesaurus.com bookmarked.

Now as a disciple of the Lox, Eggs & Onions, I could do without all his “my lord and savior” stuff.

But when you’ve pulled out more miracles than Elijah you can praise any one you want.

There’s no question that Tim Tebow’s recent success has opened many eyes around the country.

But thanks to my friend Jon, I knew about this train way before it left the station.

Almost a decade ago Jon told me about this home-schooled high school kid in his Jacksonville neighborhood.

The next big thing.

But even after winning a National Championship.

As a freshman.

A Heisman Trophy.

As a sophomore.

Another National Championship.

As a Junior.

Being selected 25th out of the 255 players in the 2010 draft.

Tim Tebow was still considered nothing more than a joke.

But who’s laughing now.

The Broncos have won seven of their last eight games with Tebow under center.

They are locked in first place.

On the verge of making the playoffs.

Tim Tebow is as legit as M.C. Hammer.

As a Raiders fan, it’s been difficult to watch.

But thanks to my friend David, everything is getting more in focus.

Like me, David is a Raiders fan.

And like me, we both hope there’s one of them miracles ahead for the Silver and Black.

We spoke last week after the Broncos last second win in Minnesota moved them into a first place tie with our team.

When David heard the woe is me in my voice, he knew it was time to bring out some Tebow-style inspiration.

David told me that because of his undying love for the Lakers and the Dodgers.

He spent his childhood hating Pete Rose and Larry Bird.

Instead of appreciating their genius.

Now as a much more mature sports fan, he wasn’t going to let that happen again.

The Raiders are still #1 in his heart.

But instead of rooting against everything Broncos.

He is sincerely enjoying a phenomenon that we have never seen before.

And may never see again.

He is a Tebowliever.

I knew exactly where he was coming from on the whole Rose/Bird thing.

To this day, I get sick every time I think of John Elway or Graig Nettles or Jack Clark or ...

I could go on.

But the point is, what we are seeing with the Broncos right now is nothing short of ... miraculous.

And rooting against Tim Tebow just because of the color of his... 

uniform... 

...is rooting against everything that is right with sports.

Enjoy the ride.

Go Raiders!