Reflection: The Season That Could Have Been

Right now we are well into the summer and what some call, the slow period in sports. I would agree with that to an extent. Basketball and football are in the offseason and baseball is working it way to the All Star break in July. The Stanley Cup has been quite enjoyable so far...that's a plus. But, I was feeling nostalgic this afternoon and though many of you might be feeling the same. My thoughts hearkened back the NCAA Tournament and the number one overall seed...my Louisville Cardinals and the disappointment of not making the Final Four. I thought for sure we would meet UNC in the finals on our way to hanging a (long overdue) third banner in Freedon Hall. Nontheless, it was a great year to watch the Cards as they garnered the Big East regular season and conference titles. Looking for a trip down memory lane? Enjoy...

Top 6 Albums/Tapes I Have Bought More Than Once

6) Thriller - Mike Jackson. This was the first tape I ever owned, and I wore that damn thing out. I remember on my birthday opening the shoe box and finding this piece of artist gold just lying there. Two thoughts raced through my mind: a. How could my parents treat this man and his work like this and b. how in the hell do I open this plastic contraption and listen to "P.Y.T?" Since then I have bought this album and its monumental collection of songs over and over is some form or fashion. Recent times have been tough on the old King of Pop...but he will always be remembered for creating this masterpiece.

5) License To Ill - Beastie Boys. This is the record that made every white kid in my grade school feel like a hardcore gang members. It took us a while to eventually learn that The Beasties Boys were white too and not really hardcore. It was like back in the day when we thought drinking Zima was the shit because it was malt liquor. Jolly Rancher's bitches. License To Ill featured bomb cuts like "Paul Revere," "She's Crafty," "Brass Monkey," and of course "You Gotta Fight." That video lived on Mtv for almost two years. It wouldn't go away.

4) Appetite For Destruction - G N' R. This album and ensuing videos hit Mtv like a scud missile. It seemed every song that came out of this record was money. I actually believe this was my first musical purchase in the late 80's with money I earned from slingin rock. Not really, it was from mowing grass. Although I do remember buying a De La Soul tape around the same time. Nevermind, I didn't buy that tape because I distinctly remember tearing off the PARENTAL ADVISORY sticker in the store. I've bought this tape at least twice, stolen it from friends numerous time and eventually bought the CD.

3) Crash - DMB. I would set the over/under on the amount of times I've purchased this CD at about 6. Why? I have no effing clue. It seems as soon as I buy the damn thing I lose it. I've lost this CD a different parties along the way and even forgot it one a boat one time, I think. It's a good CD. Its like my "Catcher in the Rye" from Mel Gibson's movie Conspiracy.

2) The Chronic - Dre. This CD will always have a spot in my library. Eventually my kids are going to get sick of me listening to it. It jammed out of our Alpines and Pioneers for three years back then. This includes at least 2-3 trips to Panama City for Spring Break. I originally bought it for Dre's first single, "Nuttin' But a G Thang," but quickly found it to be the fifth best song on the record. This CD is just plain stupid. For anyone who was in high school in the early to mid 90's you know what I'm talking about. Really it was the only thing we listened to. Hell, it took me a year to eventually find it had 16 songs on it...I never made it to the end. It featured Nate Dogg, Warren G, Krupt, Daz and of course introduced Snoop Dogg to the world. It was a masterpiece by the former NWA founder. By comparison, here's what else we were listen to in 1992-93 and you can see why it blew everybody away: a. Boys II Men b. Whitney Houston and c. Sir Mix-A-Lot. They were all trash. If by some chance I lose this CD, and I will, you can count on me rolling into Camelot Music the next day. If it were still there.

1) Ten - Pearl Jam. The sole reason for the Pine to put together this list was the recent re-release of Ten from Pearl Jam. I, along with millions of others, will get out and buy this classic being re-released. It's coming back with additional songs, originals getting remixed, and a DVD of the Unplugged from '92. A very clever way to make us buy it again. I'm down with that. This CD could rival The Chronic in defining the era I grew up in. If you weren't listening to one you were jamming to the other. Nirvana is typically credited with the grunge movement and redefining the music scene in the early 90's, and that's fine, but I was hesitant to jump on board. Then I heard Ten and I was sold. I bought it then and many times after that. I actually still had a copy in my car when I went to buy the re-released version last week. Unbelievable CD.

Well that's it...the top six. Maybe your list looks the same, maybe not. I had some others that were close to making the list and were just edged out... like Smashing Pumpkins, Live and Snoop Dogg. What's your list look like?

The NBA is closing in...

I'm excited to say that the NBA is back, or at least as close as it can be. My youth limits my memories of the Magic vs Bird era where the league had tv's locked down on Sunday afternoons, but I have heard the stories. By the time I was following the game, Magic had AIDS, Bird had a bad back, and a man they called "Air Jordan" had taken the thrown. Back then people would watch in amazement while these two legends would hit the hardwood, dazzling viewers and fans with finger-rolls, impossible base line jumpers, no-look passes, and hook shots. It might arguably been the greatest decade the sport has ever seen.

True, Jordan set the pace in the 90's with all the shots, dunks, and rings that gives any basketball fan chills just thinking about it. His yearly drama of retiring, gambling, playing baseball, and coming back, then coming back again, held our attention in his hands for as long as he wanted to. The Admiral won a few rings which was nice but ended an era that was classic, something truly worth following.

Well, for the first time in nearly a decade...it's back! (I think). We suffered through many "shoulda woulda's" like K Brown, Stackhouse, and Vincanity. Chosen ones that never delivered more than spots on Sportscenters Top Ten. The league has something to watch. Players like D-Wade, Kobe and LeBron have our attention. The table is set, the rivalries are developed. Sure we had the Lakers dynasty revamped only to let Shaq and Kobe ruin it off the court...I blame Phil.

With the playoffs nearing I will watch. I will watch to see how far Wade can carry an overachieving group of role players, and how long King James will remain a Cavalier(my guess is if they win the big one he stays in Cleveland). I will also watch to see if Kobe can get a ring without Shaq. In years of late he has planted his dominance with no hardware, and no contenders. With Kobe, James, and Wade the league has finally got the cast we want to follow. With teams like the Nuggets with Melo and Billups, CP3 in New Orleans, the aging Spurs, defending champs Celtics, and many others also in the hunt for a title...this post season is worth watching.

I'm glad it has arrived. The next group that will dazzle us. The group that will show off our league the way it has in the past. Though nothing will compare to the 80's and 90's that produced legends, I think this is the beginning of a new...and for that I'm excited.

Why I Love the Masters

Hope springs eternal in the human breast;
Man never Is, but always To be blest:

Alexander Pope 1733

During this week the memory of snow and freezing rain begin to disappear, and thoughts of summer fortunes fill the air. It's the flowers blooming and the scent of fresh cut grass permeating that subtly tips me off. It can mean only one thing...it’s Master weekend and I couldn’t be happier. For 75 years golf professionals from all walks of life have battled the majestic Augusta National Golf Course, in hopes of being called the best. To wear the distinguished Green Jacket in Butler Cabin and be forever linked to the greatest golf tournament we have ever seen.

For this one-week we use distinct names to describe the features of Augusta National. We instantly know that Rae’s Creek adorns the 13th green like a treacherous medieval moat. To get to the 12th you must cross Hogan’s Bridge, and be ever so careful on the 17th for the Eisenhower Tree. Try keeping your nerves in check while coming around Amen’s Corner late Sunday. Pay no attention to that roar up ahead of you, it was just The Bear making eagle on 15 to draw even. This tournament is so special to me and others because of the the traditions that have become synonymous with the first week in April and The Masters.

One of the traditions that cannot be surpassed is the ceremonial starter on the first tee on Thursday. With the sun just appearing over the horizon and dew still on the ground Arnold Palmer striped the first drive this morning and walked off to a roaring applause. I remember growing up and see Gene Sarazen, Sam Snead and Byron Nelson teeing it up…well into there 70’s and 80’s at the first hole. I know in my time that I will eventually see Jack as the honorary starter, then Freddy and possibly Tiger Woods far down the road.

Last year I had the privilege of walking the golf course for a Tuesday practice round. Just unbelievable. Here is a very special Riding the Pine – My impression of Augusta - Top 6:

6) The Patrons: Barely a peep could be heard from the masses of people crowded around a hole or on the walkways. Everyone just whispered his or her way around.

5) The Location: I had always imagined Augusta National to be way off in the middle of a national forest. It’s not even close. Imagine having the greatest golf course in the world nestled off Dixie Highway. Its right off the road. We parked in an apartment complex and walked in. It reminds me of Churchill Downs in a way...not the greatest part of town either.

4) Magnolia Lane: The camera shots during the coverage give to no justice. It is amazingly long and leads to a bustling intersection. It parts the driving range and chipping green. The trees form a tunnel that leads right to the clubhouse and front door.

3) The Hills: I’ve always heard the announcers talk about the elevations changes on the course and how TV doesn’t paint the most realistic picture. Check and Check. If you tripped going down #10 fairway, you wouldn’t stop rolling until you hit the green. When you stand that the first tee you can look down the hill and see #9 green, #18 green and #10 tee all within 50 yards.

2) The Concession Prices: The concession are cafeteria-style lines that move in perpetual motion. It's just like walking through a grade school lunch line. Everything is Master’s label with no brand names. It's Master’s chips, Master’s peanuts and Master’s crackers. Pimento Cheese and Egg Salad sandwiches are the food of choice in Augusta...and I thought I was in heaven. So I walked though my first time with a pimento sandwich, chips and a cold beer, expecting to pay a small fortune. The nicest person in the world that I have truly ever met said in a southern drawl, “That’ll be $3.75 sweetie.” I said, “Let me grab another beer.”

1) The Golf Course: Everything is perfect.

Success Goes to Contributor's Head

The Pine's newest contributor and well respected blogger, Greg Charmoli, has lost his mind. Call it a temporary delusion of grandeur if you will. True, his posts on The Pine, "Top Ten Images of 2008," and "Definition of a Man-Crush," did cause a fair amount of success for us, and for that we thank him. But today, the opening day of the Masters, my holiest of holy days, Greg has proverbially stabbed me in the back. Mr. Charmoli has revolted against the Pine and started his own blog.

As you can imagine the phones have been ringing off the hook. Everyone's asking the same questions, "Are you mad?" "Are you going to strike back?", "Will the Pine survive?" The answer to all those question ladies is simple...yes. The Pine will be back and stronger than ever. Competition is good. Over the past month and half The Pine has gone dark as management was restructuring and for this we are sorry. But my friends...I assure you, do not fret...for the night is darkest just before the dawn, and the deafening sounds of the rooster crowing will serve as a wake up call once again.

For fans of Star Wars IV (you won't understand Greg) this story is reminiscent of one Darth Vader, AKA Anakin Skywalker, striking down is former master and teacher, Obi Won Kenobi. But Vader had no idea of the power and fury he was unleashing with the death of Old Ben Kenobi.

We wish nothing but the best for Greg and all his future endeavors. We actually welcome the competition, for I can only hope that this causes everyone to step up their game. The gauntlet has been thrown down Mr Baker and Mr. Nelson. The Pine will rise again. But Greg after the National Organization for Women read your first article (yes I did send an email to Martha Burke) you will be back. Best of luck to you my friend, I have always enjoyed your prose.

Greg From The Tips - Greg's blog

A Welcome Addition to the Bench...

Riding the Pine is happy to introduce the newest member to the bench...longtime supporter and a true friend of the G Unit Crew, Greg Charmoli.

You may have already known Greg's work, he has been crushing articles on the Fantasy Football website for years now. Please enjoy the next two articles from our newest contributor.

The Art of the Man Crush - DeJuan Wheat

by GPC



Man-crush (noun) [man-crush]: A heterosexual man admiring another man to an extreme in a non-romantic or sexual way, more having an intense desire to be that other man.

The term man-crush is a relatively new term not yet recognized by most, if not all, standard dictionaries. Nonetheless, we all know what it is and have had one at some point in our lives, if not currently. In most cases, our initial experience with a man-crush originated in the form of a childhood idol that, as we matured, developed into a man-crush. Having an idol is more reserved for the innocence of one’s youth and typical in most every young lad’s development. However, when we graduate (if ever) from youth to adulthood, that idolization transforms into that of the aforementioned man-crush. We as guys can no longer claim that “when they grow up” we merely want to be like said man. The line between childhood idol and man-crush is realized when, we as men, have missed the opportunity to become the next (insert idol here) and come to the realization that we just have to settle for mere admiration of another man that approaches, yet falls just short, of full fledged homosexuality. After all, we’re MEN right? We’re not homos!

That being said, my idol and man-crush was, and is, DeJuan Wheat. Probably not a name that those outside of Louisville, Kentucky recognize, or would think to be worthy of a man-crush. However, DeJuan Wheat captured my heart when I least expected to find platonic love. After all, I was initially resistant to his athletic charm. As a University of Louisville fan growing up I followed the program religiously and accepted each player that committed to UL in my fandom like a member of my immediate family. Despite their sometimes many flaws, I cheered for them because they loved the same thing I did – UL basketball. And they were talented enough to put the jersey on and represent the school on the hardwood that I never had the ability to. However, most of these players over the years came and went without much thought after their four years (or sometimes sooner) were up. DeJuan Wheat was different.

I wish I could put my finger on exactly why I was so enamored with him but you had to see him play to understand. He had a humble mentality and a subtle, yet undeniable fortitude. Everything about him was understated. He was 6’0” tall, 165 pounds yet 100% pure assassin. Fearless and silky smooth. Gutsy and un-phased. He was, and still is, everything you wish athletes in today’s sports culture would be. The first time I ever saw him play was in high school in a district game against Fern Creek. I came to the gym to see the guy that was being touted as the top candidate for Mr. Basketball and left the gym wondering why in the world my beloved Cardinals would be recruiting him. However, in hind-site, I now realize that what left me unimpressed that night was the true essence of his greatness. He was the girl that wouldn’t give it up on the first date. I realized I wanted him to be the basketball version of a slut and give me everything I wanted. I wanted him to impress me with freakish ability and eye-popping tits…I mean stats. Initially, as we all know, this is very frustrating, yet ultimately, the most rewarding type of courtship. He was a lady first. He wasn’t about winning my heart with a quickie. He was about showing me his long-lasting athletic qualities, demeanor, smarts and mentality…the things that take time to appreciate and fall in love with. He was the conservative secretary in glasses and cumber-bun. An unsuspecting talent with a great rack that lies beneath a blouse that fails to reveal killer cleavage.

As Wheat became a Cardinal and I began to see his game blossom I began to realize the diminutive guard was my knight in shining armor. As a high school basketball player myself, he was everything I wish I could have been. He was the portrait I could never paint. I was infatuated. He had lightning quickness and a jumper that could be defined by a myriad of exquisite adjectives. As a fan, watching him shoot could bring a tear of joy to your eye. As an opponent or a defender, it would do the same, but the tear was less about joy and more about the dagger in your back. Just ask Tony Delk. On January 1, 1995, in Wheat’s virtuoso performance of the heated rivalry with the University of Kentucky, with the game hanging in the balance in a raucous Freedom Hall, Wheat hit a 17’ fall-away jumper right in the face and over the outstretched arm of Delk. It was the nail in the coffin and the defining shot of this huge upset. “Ring in the New, Red Over Blue” was the headline the following day in the local paper. My boy Wheat was the hometown hero after pouring in 23 points - Samaki Walker’s triple-double didn’t hurt either but Wheat was Mr. Clutch when Louisville needed a basket to seal the victory. And despite the dramatic fashion in which Wheat operated that afternoon, he never so much as pumped a fist. That wasn’t his style. He was “killin’ ‘em softly” and letting his performance do the talking. A grin was about the extent of any emotion he showed while demonstrating the skills of his craft.

Wheat was no flash in the pan during his Cardinal career. He went on to become an All-American in the ’96-’97 season - a season in which he lead the Cards to the Sweet Sixteen where they eventually lost to North Carolina. Wheat was hobbled that game by a severely sprained ankle and, therefore, unable to be his normal self. However, this did not tarnish what he had brought to the Louisville program for the previous four years. Wheat ended his career as the school’s second all-time leading scorer with 2,183 points. At the time, Wheat was the only college player to amass career totals in excess of 2,000 points, 450 assists and 300 three-pointers.

Wheat now plays in Mexico and is still doing his thing. While I don’t get to follow his success like I once did, I will forever have a man-crush on number 32.