Gobble, gobble ... Time Again for the Sports Turkey of the Year

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I've been picking a sports Turkey of the Year for 26 autumns -- first as the Chicago sports columnist for the Copley and GateHouse newspaper chains, and later as the keeper of The Baldest Truth -- and there's never a shortage of candidates.

That's the case again this year, as there were plenty of losers and lunkheads and dopes and mopes to go around.

Before I get to the 2023 Turkey countdown, here were my selections over the first quarter century for this illustrious "honor" ...

• 2022 -- Tony La Russa
• 2021 -- Aaron Rodgers
• 2020 -- Donald F. Trump
• 2019 -- Antonio Brown
• 2018 -- J.R. Smith
• 2017 -- Kyle Shanahan
• 2016 -- Pat McCrory
• 2015 -- Derrick Rose
• 2014 -- Roger Goodell and Ray Rice
• 2013 -- Alex Rodriguez
• 2012 -- U.S. Ryder Cup Team
• 2011 -- Joe Paterno (and his Penn State enablers)
• 2010 -- Mark McGwire
• 2009 -- Milton Bradley
• 2008 -- Choking Cubbies
• 2007 -- Charlie Weis
• 2006 -- Aramis Ramirez
• 2005 -- Andy MacPhail, Jim Hendry and Dusty Baker
• 2004 -- Sammy Sosa
• 2003 -- Sammy Sosa
• 2002 -- Dick Jauron
• 2001 -- David Wells and Frank Thomas
• 2000 -- Bobby Knight
• 1999 -- Jerry Krause
• 1998 -- Mike McCaskey

After sifting through a list that included the likes of Ja Morant, Bill Belichick, Dillon Brooks, Jarred Kelenic, Jaden McDaniels, Miles Bridges, Kyrie Irving, Glen Kuiper, Sean Payton, Frank Reich, Brandon Staley, Connor Stalions, Marquez Valdes-Scantling, Matt Eberflus, James Harden, Josh McDaniels, Tony DeAngelo, Draymond Green and plenty of others ... here is the 2023 Final Four:

Alphonzo Tuputala

No, you're not wrong ... the proper reaction is, "Who?" So let me explain.

Tuputala is a linebacker for the University of Washington. On Nov. 11 against Utah, he intercepted a deflected pass and raced down the right sideline for an apparent pick-6.

All good so far, right? Well, about 2 yards before he reached the goal line -- somehow thinking he was already in the end zone -- he just dropped the football. 

As Washington players mobbed Tuputala in the end zone, congratulating him for what everyone thought was a touchdown, an alert Utah player dived on the football.

That ended the celebration pretty quickly. 

Something like this occurs a couple times every season. I'm always baffled why athletes can't wait two more strides to celebrate, but I'm kind of glad it happens because it's always good for a laugh.

Mario Cristobal

All the Miami coach had to do was instruct his quarterback to take a knee, and the Hurricanes would have beaten Georgia Tech on Oct. 7. But instead, for whatever reason, he called a running play, the tailback fumbled, Georgia Tech recovered, and four plays later the Ramblin' Wreck used a long TD pass to wreck what had been an unbeaten Miami season.

"What we did at the end was a wrong decision," Cristobal said.

Jeez ... ya think?

Turns out, it wasn't even the first time Cristobal had made that kind of boneheaded decision. But it was the first time he got burned by that turkey of a call.

It's all part of him being on the hot seat with an 11-12 record in two seasons at The U.

Grant Williams

Then with the Celtics, Williams trash-talked Miami's Jimmy Butler after hitting a 3 to give Boston a 9-point lead midway through the fourth quarter of Game 2 of the Eastern Conference finals. The two got in each other's faces and had to be separated. 

The extra-motivated Butler promptly went on a scoring binge, almost all against Williams, in leading the Heat to a comeback victory - a key game in Miami's series upset of the heavily favored Celtics.

Often mentioned as the NBA's best team during the regular season, the Celtics were denied a trip to the Finals by the Heat, Butler and, well, Grant Williams.

And Now ... The 2023 Turkey of the Year ...

PAT FITZGERALD

It's hard to believe that hazing still takes place on college campuses at all, let alone within major athletic programs.

But sadly, there was a long, tawdry culture of hazing within the Northwestern program under coach Pat Fitzgerald.

He of course denied that he knew anything about it, but evidence uncovered in an investigation suggested otherwise. And his denials were laughable on their face, anyway.

College coaches are ultra-controlling people -- by design and by necessity -- and they know everything going on within their programs. Indeed, it's part of the recruiting pitch they give to athletes and, especially, to athletes' parents: "I am in charge, and I will take care of your son."

Pat Fitzgerald failed that mission completely -- athletes were sexually abused and emotionally assaulted under his watch -- and last summer he was deservedly fired.

It marked an abrupt end to what had mostly been a feel-good story: Chicago-area kid becomes an All-American linebacker for a Northwestern team that finally makes the Rose Bowl after decades of futility, eventually takes charge of the program, and becomes the school's winningest coach ever.

Thing is, even the football part of it hadn't elicited many good feelings in recent years. Northwestern went 14-31 in Fitzgerald's final four seasons, including three last-place campaigns in which the team went 1-8 in the Big Ten. Even before the hazing allegations, Northwestern football had returned to being completely irrelevant.

Nationally, people only paid attention to the program again when scandal broke out ... and Fitzgerald was the face of it.

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I would have paid to see Cavs owner grovel at The King's feet!

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Good for Cleveland.

And good for LeBron.

When we last saw King James on a decision-making day, he was the lead actor in "The Decision," the ridiculous, narcissistic 2010 ESPN show on which he announced he was taking his talents to South Beach.

On Friday, he couldn't have been classier, penning an article for SI.com in which he explained his emotional ties to Northeast Ohio and said the draw to return home was just too great for him to resist. He complimented the Heat organization, called Chris Bosh and Dwyane Wade his "brothers" and came out looking so much bigger than Dan Gilbert.

You remember Gilbert, right? He's the ass-hat of a Cavs owner who four years ago posted an infamous and infantile rant on the team's Web site in which he questioned LeBron's courage and character. Laughingly, he also predicted that he would would win a championship in Cleveland before LeBron did for Miami.

That LeBron returned to Cleveland anyway - for less money than he would have gotten from the Heat - practically suggests he should change his moniker from King James to Saint James.

Gilbert supposedly threw himself on the mercy of King James' court a few days ago, begging forgiveness and apologizing relentlessly. It must have been quite a scene, Gilbert groveling at the feet of the man he ripped four years earlier.

Of course, Gilbert wasn't sincere. He had four years to remove that tripe from the Web site and to apologize like a man, but he left it up there until just a few days ago - when, much to his surprise, James started sending out signals that he would return to Cleveland despite Gilbert.

Almost as funny as Gilbert's pathetic pleas for forgiveness: the conspiracy theorists who think that this was all an NBA plant. Not only did the Cavs win some draft lotteries lately, they now also have LeBron.

Oh, absolutely. Forget having viable teams in New York, L.A., Chicago, Miami, Philly and Boston. The one thing the NBA desperately wants is a winner in Cleveland.

As for what's left of the Heat, reports started surfacing Friday afternoon that Bosh would spurn the Rockets to stay in Miami (for more money, of course) and that maybe Wade would stay with him (though the Bulls also want Wade, and why wouldn't they?). The East is so weak that a Bosh-Wade pairing, surrounded by decent role players, probably would win 45-50 games next season.

Bosh and Wade come out of this smelling like roses, too. Both were willing to wait for James to finalize his decision before they did anything, and both apparently were willing to take major pay cuts had LeBron opted to stay in Miami.

The focus now is on Carmelo Anthony. He supposedly favors going to Chicago because the Bulls are so much better than the Knicks, but he'd be leaving some $50 million on the table to do so.

Fifty-million bucks! I mean, we're talkin' Nadel Money there!!

Now, I never begrudge anybody for going for the money; just don't take the money and then try to claim it's all about winning. Because if it's all about winning, he'd go play with Joakim Noah and a healthy (?) Derrick Rose instead of with a bunch of stiffs in New York.

It's been a fun week of speculation, and with Carmelo still a free agent it isn't done yet.

I genuinely am happy for my friends in Cleveland, who deserve to watch the greatest player in the world again. I only wish Dan Gilbert wouldn't be a major beneficiary, as well, because he deserves nothing but scorn.
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Today's High Five: U.S. Open and other endings

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5. Martin Kaymer reminds me a lot of myself.

No, I'm not talking about his wire-to-wire victory in the U.S. Open, his incredible putting, his bunker play, his 310-yard drives, his good looks, his physique or his overflowing bank account.

I'm talking about his apparent disdain for using wedges around the greens. Like me (and many other high-handicappers), the man putts everything he possibly can.

On one hole, Kaymer could have tried a tricky chip from a tight lie over a bunker into a pin near the edge of the green. Instead, he actually putted backward through the fringe, leaving himself with a long par putt from off the green. He two-putted from there for a bogey, and seemed quite happy to get it.

With a huge lead over the field, he knew that the only way he could lose the tournament was by experiencing a few horrific holes. He knew that the best way to avoid that was to stick with the club he trusted most. I loved it because I do the exact same thing. (And not only when I am leading the U.S. Open.)

What I didn't love was Kaymer lapping the field. I dig fantastic finishes, and watching dramatic U.S. Open battles has become a Father's Day ritual. So Tiger being hurt, Phil stinking up Pinehurst, Rory failing to find any magic, Bubba missing the cut and everybody else being unwilling or unable to challenge Kaymer turned the tournament into the Who S. Open and ruined my Father's Day.

Ruined it, I say!

Actually, that's not close to being true. I had a lovely, relaxing day. Roberta, Simmie and I took a long walk and visited with some goats and a donkey at a nearby hobby farm. I saved nearly $40 on a $12 grocery store bill - I am not making this up! - and even received a $10 instant rebate for buying a $5 pie. That's right: They paid me 5 bucks for taking a key lime pie off their hands! Later, I thoroughly enjoyed the Copper River salmon I grilled on a cedar plank for dinner. (And pie for dessert!) Of course, I also took several moments to fondly recall my many happy times with my father, truly a great man.

Kaymer even saved an otherwise anticlimactic U.S. Open for me by putting from off the green - well off the green - on at least a dozen occasions.

The next time I'm playing with my buddies and they scoff at me for putting from 15 feet off the green, I'll just smile and say, "It worked for the Who S. Open champion!"

4. And speaking of anticlimactic, it sure would have been nice if the Heat had bothered showing up for the last three games of the NBA Finals.

You know what? Instead of totally ragging on the losing team, let's give a big thumbs-up to the winners.

The Spurs were the NBA's best all season and they underscored their dominance in the Finals. They are talented and savvy and well-coached and deeper than the Grand Canyon. They wore out LeBron & Co., outplayed them, outclassed them and outscored them by 20 points per game after the series was tied 1-1.

There was a lot of talk about players' legacies going into this series, specifically revolving around LeBron James and Tim Duncan.

Despite all the haters' blah-blah-blahing, LeBron's legacy is fine. He has won two titles, has carried two organizations to a total of five Finals appearances and already is one of the top 10 basketball players ever.

Duncan? You know, he's pretty good, too!

3. The U.S. Open and NBA Finals weren't the only things to end Sunday. I already miss Game of Thrones.

It might be time to put my HBO subscription on hiatus for a little while.

2. And while we're on the subject of endings, this weekend marked the end of my Little League umpiring season. 

Here in Charlotte, it is too hot and humid to make the kiddies play all summer, so they have spring and fall seasons.

I had a lot of fun in my first full season behind the plate and in the field. And hey, I only ejected one coach all year - and I let him hang around for at least three innings of whining longer than I should have.

My highlight: During a brief time-out while one of his teammates was tying a shoe, a 10-year-old catcher turned around and asked me: "Do you umpire MLB, too?"

I was so stunned, I didn't even have a clever retort. I probably even blushed. Umps don't get compliments very often, especially one quite like that!

1. The weekend's first ending, the L.A. Kings' clutch performance against the Rangers in the Stanley Cup Final, served as a happy reminder of something that happened to me 20 years earlier.

That memory actually started 21 years ago, when Wayne Gretzky and the Kings lost in the 1993 Final to the Canadiens. I was the lead hockey writer for AP back then, and my coverage earned the Will Grimsley Award for best body of work.

Flash forward to '94. This time, the Rangers were in the Final, and prevailed over the Canucks in a thrilling seven-game series to break their 54-year championship drought.

About two weeks after covering that series, Roberta and I were flown to a resort in southern California, where I received my '93 award at the Associated Press Sports Editors conference. Because I happened to be the first AP writer called to the podium, I had the stage to myself for about a minute while my peers applauded.

Twenty years later, I still consider that minute to be the pinnacle of my AP career ... and one of the great things to happen to me in what I acknowledge has been a very lucky life.
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Special LeBron isn't Michael ... at least not yet

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LeBron, what a stud. Clearly the best player of the post-Jordan era ... and, frankly, it isn't very close.

The ill-informed people who claim he's not a winner ... what do they say now? Two straight titles, three straight NBA Finals, four Finals overall (counting the one with an otherwise awful Cleveland team). Yeah, what a loser. If the haters would bother looking up LeBron's amazing stats for Game 7s and other elimination games throughout his career, they'd have a tough time being haters.

The man is special, and I found myself rooting for him because I like special. I've been watching sports pretty darn closely for more decades than I care to admit, and I still get a kick out of special because special doesn't come along very often.

And now, as the leader of a repeat world champion, LeBron haters have only two things left to rag him about: He was jerk for doing "The Decision," and he isn't Michael Jordan.

The first was silliness that has zero relevance today. And the second, well, that just puts him at the head of a very long line. There's no shame in being second to Jordan, and James still has five or 10 or however many years left to play catch up.

For me, it's pretty simple: I just like watching the dude play ball.

(Oh, and that Wade guy from Marquette ain't chopped liver, either!)
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Today's High 5: Asking politically correct golf fans and Game of Thrones nerds to chill out

5. Those who believe the PGA should have suspended, fined or punished Sergio Garcia in some other way for his racist "fried chicken" remark aimed at Tiger Woods, get a clue.

Garcia already has been punished in the court of public opinion. With his muted reaction, Tiger came off as classy while Sergio merely sounded assy.

And then there's this: Garcia punishes himself every time he plays a major by choking like the dog he is. The U.S. Open figures to be yet another failure for the whining Spaniard -- an "athlete" who is the diametric opposite of countryman Rafa Nadal.

Pro sports leagues shouldn't legislate political correctness. Society does a great job deciding these things.

4. I'm pretty sure the Spurs just made a half-dozen more 3-pointers. Which is incredible because, as I write this, Game 3 has been over for about an hour.

Look, the Spurs made every shot they launched toward the basket and the Heat pretty much stunk. Kind of the exact opposite what happened in Game 2.

LeBron & Co. are in no more trouble than the Spurs were after they were routed two nights earlier.

Now, if the same thing happens in Game 4 ...

3. The Sons of Pitches, the oldie-but-goodie-league softball team for which I play, closed out the regular season Tuesday with our fourth straight victory.

We are hitting the ball, making most of the plays in the field and taking care of business on the mound. We were especially sharp Tuesday, overcoming our few bad plays by playing sound fundamental softball and delivering timely hits. Afterward, nine of us went out for a beverage -- which is about three times as much as the typical turnout last season. That's what I call camaraderie!

The playoffs start next week and we have as good a chance at the title as anybody does. We will be missing our shortstop and best player, Tom, for the first couple of postseason games, but I still feel really good about this team.

We have fun, we like each other and we're playing well. That's what this is supposed to be about.

2. The Cubs and White Sox owe the Blackhawks big-time.

Chicago is ga-ga over its hockey team's second Stanley Cup Finals appearance this decade. The Blackhawks play the Bruins in a series that will last almost until the Bears start training camp. Baseball hasn't mattered this little in the Windy City since Mayor Daley was handing the Sox taxpayer money for Comiskey Park while telling the Cubs they couldn't spend their own to upgrade Wrigley.

On Monday, both the Cubs and Sox played home games in heavy fog.

A perfect metaphor, my friends.

1. Yet another fantastic season of Game of Thrones has concluded, and, speaking on behalf of all of us dummies who are watching the HBO series without having read all gazillion G.O.T. books ...

Hey, book-reading nerds: Stop telling us what is going to happen next!!

From what I understand, the show is quite faithful to the novels, which means every G.O.T. reader already knows all the stunning developments before each episode airs. I guess these folks just want to see how HBO pulls off the best scenes, but as a sports guy who will not watch a sporting event I have taped if I accidentally find out what happened, I like to be surprised.

Game of Thrones has had some of the most shocking scenes in recent TV history. Again, speaking for us television-watching dopes, I want to keep being shocked going forward.

Is that too much to ask for?
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Bulls hammer Heat; also, rockin' with Roger Clyne

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Call 'em the Thug-A-Bulls.

That's not a criticism at all. If I were coach Tom Thibodeau -- and with my rugged chubbiness and bulging bank account, we are often mistaken for each other -- I would do the exact same thing against the Heat.

Playing without Derrick Rose, Luol Deng and Kirk Hinrich (and, for all intents and purposes, without Carlos Boozer, who appears ready to do his annual postseason disappearing act), the Bulls pushed and shoved and hammered and stomped and hip-checked and elbowed their way to victory in Game 1.

It's not cheating. It's not even dirty. There are three refs on the floor, and it is their job to make the calls. It's the job of Thibodeau and his players to win the game.

The Bulls also outhustled their more-heralded opponents. And down the stretch, the Bulls -- not the Jordan/Pippen/Grant Bulls, mind you, but the Robinson/Belinelli/Gibson Bulls -- made all the clutch plays.

Playing all 48 minutes for the third straight playoff game, my Marquette homie, Jimmy Butler, had 21 points and 14 rebounds and, more importantly, made LeBron James work hard for every inch of space on the court. Sometimes that involved Butler fouling LeBron. Hard. That's why the MVP gets the big bucks.

Yes, the Bulls did more than beat the Heat -- and even did more than beat up the Heat. They flustered and demoralized LeBron, Dwyane Wade & Co., got them to do things they normally don't.

A few examples:

-- After taking a 76-69 lead that seemingly put the Heat in command with 6:22 left, the next two minutes go like this: Norris Cole fouls Nate Robinson, who makes both FTs ... 24-second violation on Heat ... Wade fouls Butler, who makes both FTs ... Ray Allen badly misses 3-pointer ... Marco Belinelli makes 3-pointer ...  Mario Chalmers misses 1 of 2 FTs for Miami ... Taj Gibson makes jumper to put Chicago ahead. Neither James nor Wade even attempt a shot during this stretch.

-- With 2:21 left, James hits a FT to give Heat an 86-83 lead. Miami doesn't score again. LeBron misses his second FT ... Joakim Noah rebounds Chicago miss, leading to Belinelli's tying 3-pointer ... Chris Bosh misses jumper ... Robinson scores to put Bulls ahead to stay.

-- With Miami down 2 and the clock ticking close to the minute mark, a defensive switch leaves Belinelli on James, who immediately goes to the post for a pass that never comes. Instead, Wade, a career 29% shooter from 3-point range, launches a brick from way outside. Noah grabs the rebound, Robinson scores again and Miami players look like they've lost their best friends. Fans start heading for the exit even though their team is only down 4 and plenty of time remains.

-- James then misses a short jumper from the baseline with 29 seconds left and doesn't bother going back on defense. Again, the Heat is only down 4. Instead of trying to do something -- anything! -- to get his team back in the game, the MVP is sulking. It's one of several times either he or Wade react that way, usually because they're whining about fouls not being called.

I love watching LeBron do his thing and believe he is the best player in the world since Jordan's heyday. But Michael never would have reacted the way LeBron repeatedly did. And I've always liked Wade, another fellow Marquetter, but these days he spends almost as much time complaining as he does playing.

So there you have it ... the best player on the planet and another in the top 10 let the battered, beleaguered Bulls get into their heads and steal home-court advantage.

I still think the Heat will win the series, but only if they stop feeling sorry for themselves and stop thinking the NBA owes them another title.

I'm sure they spent the better part of a week hoping and praying that the Nets would beat the Bulls because the Heat wanted no part of this scrappy, hard-working, physical team.

Sorry, BronBron, you've got the Bulls. Deal with it.

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Robbie and I had our most fun weekend of the spring.

We took in two concerts by Roger Clyne & The Peacemakers -- one in suburban Washington, the other in Philly; yeah, I guess that officially makes us freakin' groupies!

The scene in Falls Church, Va. If you click on the photo to expand it and look very, very carefully, you can see me and Robbie in the very center of the picture, about three rows back.

Robbie, Roger & Me after Philly show

In Philadelphia, we introduced my brother Al and his girlfriend Sandy to our favorite band, and like all others we've indoctrinated, they had a blast. We also played bad golf, ate good food, drank a few Yuenglings (America's oldest brewery, by the way), and enjoyed the company of another brother, Lee.

Grub, grog, great tunes and family. As Roger sings (with gusto):

HERE'S TO LIFE!

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Bracket? I don't need no stinkin' bracket!

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Ten years ago, I had the best NCAA hoops bracket of my life.

I correctly predicted 7 of the Elite Eight -- Marquette, Kentucky, Arizona, Kansas, Syracuse, Oklahoma and Texas. I missed only on Michigan State (having picked Florida instead). I then nailed 3 of the Final Four -- Marquette, Syracuse and Texas (erroneously picking Arizona over Kansas in the West title game, which the Jayhawks won by 3).

And here was the cherry on top: Once the Syracuse-Kansas championship game was set, I made this prediction, in print, for everybody to see: "It says here that Carmelo Anthony will shoulder the load one more time. Syracuse, 81, Kansas 77."

Carmelo had 20 points, 10 rebounds and 7 assists as Syracuse won 81-78. That's right: I was off by exactly one Kansas point.

I should have walked away from predicting right then and there, just as Roy Williams walked away from Kansas.

It's been downhill since, as my Oscar pick of "Battleship" will attest. I think the only prediction I've gotten right in the last decade was that the Internet would adversely affect the newspaper industry.

I'm going to celebrate the 10-year anniversary of my dream bracket by doing something radical, something unique, something profound.

Something un-American.

I'm not going to fill out a bracket this year.

The reason? I don't feel like it.

Of course, this means having to hear about everybody and his uncle's brackets and not even being able to follow up by saying, "Yeah, but I had Valpo over Michigan State."

My favorites are the dudes (and dudettes) who fill out multiple brackets. The reason for this is what? To be the Mitt Romney of sports prognostication?

What would me filling out a bracket prove, anyway? Either I go with my heart and predict Marquette to win it all ... or I go with my head and pick against Marquette. In the latter case, if I really care about being right, it would mean rooting against the only sports team I love. What sense would that make?

One reason I had a great bracket in 2003 was that I predicted Marquette to reach the Final Four. It wasn't a crazy pick. The Golden Warriors did have Dwyane Wade, two other guys who would go on to play in the NBA (Travis Diener and Steve Novak) and the best big man to play there in a quarter-century (Robert Jackson). Still, it was hard for me to claim it was an objective pick.

That year, Marquette just so happened to play at the same subregional site as Illinois. I was covering the Illini so, as a bonus, I got to watch the first two Marquette tourney games. Holy Cross, the 14th seed, had Marquette beaten until Diener -- not Wade, who was ordinary at best -- went nuts from 3-point range. I didn't cheer from press row. I NEVER cheered from press row during my entire career. But I did bury my head in my hands in frustration at one point. At another juncture, I had to get up from press row and take a short walk into the hallway because I couldn't take the idea of our best team since the Al McGuire Era losing its NCAA opener to Holy Freakin' Cross.

My buddy, then-Southtown columnist Phil Arvia, later told mutual friends that "Nadel was going crazy" -- suggesting I was ranting and raving on press row. Truth is, I was going crazy, but only inside, and very quietly. Damn you, Arvia ... I'll accept your apology any time.

The Missouri game was a wild OT affair, with the Golden Warriors outscoring the Tigers 21-12 in the extra session to finish with a preposterous 101 points. Again, it wasn't Wade who stole the show. Novak, then  the team's freshman sixth man, introduced himself to the nation by hitting approximately a gazillion 3-pointers.  I was really into that game but, again, not outwardly.

Anyway, I digress. Even though this Marquette team isn't nearly as talented as that one was, if I was picking a bracket I'd have to say my lads would win the national title.

Or I'd have to fill out a second bracket with Louisville, my actual pick, doing so.

So why bother?

I've been called many things over the years, but Mitt Jr. has never been one of them.
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Today's High 5: From Derrick Rose to Kerry Wood

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5. Here was my knee-jerk reaction to those who hypothesized that Tom Thibodeau was responsible for Derrick Rose's injury -- and therefore the Bulls' early playoff exit -- because Rose was still playing in the playoff opener with 82 seconds left and the Bulls up by 12: Those jerky hypothesizers should be kneed in the groin.

But what if I was wrong? What if every intelligent coach, guys with much more experience and a longer history of success than Thibodeau, would have had Rose out of there?

Well, three weeks later, the evidence is in. And I wasn't wrong at all.

Game after game, coach after coach has left his stars deep in lopsided games to make sure his team didn't blow a big lead. Doc Rivers has done so with the Celtics, Eric Spoelstra has done so with the Heat and, most notably, Gregg Popovich has done so with the Spurs.

In Game 1 vs. the Clippers, Popovich still had Tim Duncan and Tony Parker in the game with 61 seconds to go and the Spurs leading by 15. He had subbed for Manu Ginobili with a 15-point lead and 2:33 remaining -- the same time Clippers coach Vinny Del Negro removed his stars, Chris Paul and Blake Griffin.

That's right: Duncan and Parker didn't come out until a minute and a half after Del Negro conceded.

In game 2, Popovich didn't take out Duncan and Parker until the Spurs led by 17 with 2:02 left -- and, again, only after Del Negro had removed Paul and Griffin.

I guess Popovich is pretty stupid. He's only going for his fifth NBA title.

Look, most coaches are neurotic. They think a 20-point lead with 20 seconds to go isn't enough. They don't want to be remembered as the guy who subbed too early and then suffered a blown lead of historic proportions.

Most coaches embrace this philosophy: If the game is "over," let the other coach concede by taking out his players first; then I'll take out mine.

Thibodeau did exactly what Popovich, Spoelstra, Rivers and probably each of the other 26 NBA coaches would have done: He played to win the game.

4. NBA honchos and network executives might have wanted an all-glitz, all-L.A. Western Conference final, but Spurs-Thunder will be much more entertaining ... and much more representative of the conference's best.

3. After LeBron James missed a late free throw, Lance Stephenson flashed the choke sign. Which leads to one question:

Who in the name of garbage time is Lance Effin Stephenson?

James had two perfect answers when asked about Stephenson, a little-used Pacers reserve.

First came the verbal retort: "Lance Stephenson? You want a quote about Lance Stephenson? I'm not even gonna give him the time."

Then came the physical one: James had 40 points, 18 rebounds and 9 assists as the Heat reclaimed homecourt advantage by beating the Pacers.

Stephenson's contribution? DNP-CD. That's the box score abbreviation for Did Not Play - Coach's Decision.

Garbage-time scrubs shouldn't be allowed to talk, let alone make throat-slash gestures that awaken a sleeping giant.

2. Is it me or does Brian McNamee seem even less believable than Roger Clemens? And that's no easy feat!

1. I have nothing but fond memories of the years I spent covering Kerry Wood.

He always was fair to me. He answered every question I ever asked him, even those he didn't like. And he always gave every ounce of energy and passion when he played -- a fact that no doubt contributed to the many, many injuries he suffered and, finally, to his retiring Friday at the still-young age of 34.

I didn't cover his 20-strikeout game. I was running errands that day and didn't even hear about it until I was on my way to the Bulls playoff game that night. It would have been cool to have been there, but I did get to witness many other incredible performances by him.

One example: His pitching against the Braves absolutely carried the Cubs into the 2003 NLCS. As often was the case with snakebitten Wood, however, his highs were followed by lows.

The night after the famous Bartman game, the Cubs still had a chance to win their first pennant in 58 years with Wood on the mound for Game 7. I never heard Wrigley Field louder than it was when his two-run homer in the second inning tied the game. An inning later, a shot by Moises Alou gave Wood a two-run lead. He holds that lead, and Steve Bartman is but an amusing footnote, not one of the biggest villains in Cubbie lore.

But Wood was spent and couldn't hold on, allowing 7 runs as the Cubs completed their epic collapse.

Afterward, a teary-eyed Wood said: "I let my teammates down, I let the organization down and I let the city of Chicago down. I choked."

That's right: An athlete didn't try to make excuses, didn't point fingers at teammates and accepted considerably more responsibility than he had to. Honesty and accountability ... crazy concepts.

It's hard to believe that someone as talented and as hyped as Kerry Wood had only 86 career victories and never had a single 15-win season.

It shows how much luck and health mean to athletes.

I'll always look back on Wood -- and his fellow star-crossed Cubbie, Mark Prior -- as cautionary tales. As in: Stephen Strasburg is gonna be great? Maybe. But don't forget that Wood and Prior were gonna be great, too. Let's just see what happens before we anoint somebody ... "

Through all the injuries and adversity, Wood was a fighter, a stand-up guy and an amazingly hard worker. He is one of the good guys. Cubbieland, and all of baseball, is poorer without him.
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Lockouts, shooting sprees and everything in between

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This Week's Top Ten:

10. Congrats to NFL owners and players for settling on a collective bargaining agreement in time to save the season. Now if they only could do something important and get Congress and the White House to agree on a debt-ceiling package. How 'bout it, Jerry Jones and Tom Brady?

9. Republicans are afraid that ending tax loopholes and enacting other revenue-producing steps will hurt the economy (as well as piss off their rich -- oops, sorry, their "job-creating" -- friends). Democrats, meanwhile, believe entitlement programs can grow forever and ever without hurting the economy at all. Compromise, of course, is the obvious solution ... but apparently obvious only to those of us who aren't in position to make such decisions.

8. The Tour de France has ended. Tune in tomorrow for the Tour de Doping Scandal.

7. Good news, folks: It looks like we're about to use millions more in taxpayer dollars on a second Roger Clemens trial that's bound to be at least as satisfying and meaningful as the first. And we wonder why our nation is in hock up to its collective eyeballs.

6. I have a timeshare I'm thinking about giving away just so I no longer will have to pay the annual fee. Kind of like the Cubs' thoughts regarding Alfonso Soriano ... except I think I'll be able to avoid having to pay $40 million just to get somebody to take my week in Myrtle Beach.

5. Maybe you've noticed (but probably you haven't) that I've been blogging pretty infrequently lately. You'll be pleased to know that somehow I've managed to survive the financial consequences of such inactivity.

4. Here's something interesting: LeBron went on ESPN to announce he's taking his talents to South Beach to do nothing.

3. Someday I'm going to figure out why South Korean women dominate the LPGA Tour but hardly any of their male counterparts even play on the PGA Tour.

2. On the same weekend the NFL lockout effectively ended came the first rumors of Brett Favre's next un-retirement. Talk about perfect timing.

1. To draw attention to his belief that Muslims are evil murderers, a gun-loving evangelical Christian murdered dozens of innocent non-Islam children. The human race is so screwed.
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