Spring Training Research Spectacular: PART II

For yesterday’s PART I of my Spring Training Research Spectacular, click HERE.. For Part II, read on...

Day Two of Mission Arizona was spent traveling to and staring at the vast, breathtaking image that is the Grand Canyon. If you haven’t set eyes on the GC (that’s what cool people like me call it), here’s what I’ll say...

You will encounter very few things in life that make you feel as if you’re living in a dream. Things that render you incapable of looking anywhere else. Things that, no matter how long you stare, will continue to appear completely and totally unreal. Personally, I can only think of two.

The first was when I purchased my wife’s engagement ring and held it for the first time. Not only did I feel like the richest sultan in all the land, I was also struck by just how REAL things just got. And that, in turn, felt very unreal, if that makes any sense at all. (In a good way, geeeeeeez. WOMAN, BE COOL.)

The second was Friday, when my First Lieutenant and I approached the Grand Canyon from the Southern Rim and took in our first glimpse. Surrounded by smelly hikers, families with strollers, and Asian teenagers with tiny cameras, we stood there in awe. It was one of those moments where, even though you know how it’s supposed to look, and even though you KNOW everyone said it would blow your mind, you never realized just how amazing it would be. For the next three hours, we got as many views as we could. But perhaps the single most memorable aspect was that, unlike most “Hey, I’m nearby so I better see this really famous building/monument/location” type of excursions, not once did we get bored. I do not shit you when I say that every moment spent looking at the Grand Canyon feels like a gift. It will mesmerize you.

The last thing I want is for this to start down the Annoying Personal Travel Blog path, but before I return to the business of baseball, a few more notes, should you ever decide to see God’s-Craziest-Creation for yourself...

Take the drive, and enjoy it. If you’re visiting Phoenix, your trip probably started with a really lengthy plane ride. And, once there, I’m sure your main goal will be to sit outside and soak up the beautiful weather that NEVER graces your home state of New York or Ohio or PA. I get that. But do yourself a favor and push past that urge, just for a day. The drive to the Grand Canyon from Phoenix is about four hours, but looking out the window you’ll see everything from mountains to desert to palm trees. Along the way, you can stop at Montezuma’s Castle and Sedona, two natural wonders that serve as appetizers for the 227-mile filet. Don’t overthink it, just do it.

Visiting the Grand Canyon is for everyone; hiking down is not. One nice thing about last week’s pilgrimage was that Jen completely embraced the role of travel agent. Everything from driving directions to restaurant reviews to hotel reservations were printed out and stored in a color-coded binder, making it that much easier for me to focus on more important tasks like buying Twizzlers and shouting “Go Reds” at retirees. So, I wasn’t surprised to find out Jen had already mapped out a detailed strike plan for the Grand Canyon, complete with day passes, trail maps, and the recommended assortment of rations. However, neither of us were prepared for the “conditions” on the hike down. Now, I understand that putting up railings everywhere in the Grand Canyon would be kind of like trying to carpet the moon. But still, when you’re walking down a steep ravine, hugging the ICY cliff and trying not to look at the 7,000-foot abyss, I think it’s only natural to contemplate just jumping, just to see how it feels. Maybe I’m the only one who gets those sadistic thoughts. Either way though, elderly people were taking this hike. Eight year-olds were jogging it. I’m still amazed we didn’t see at least two people plummet.

And finally, avoid doing what we did, which was load up on “street meat” tacos, refried beans, and Mexican beer, moments before we began our treacherous mountain-goat walk. Not only is there nowhere to relieve yourself on the way down, but trust me when I say you won’t need any added incentive to stagger around and/or poop yourself.


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Saturday was another early morning, but for a completely different reason.

See, when we attended our first game at Goodyear Park Thursday evening, we saw all of about THREE tailgaters in the parking lot as we walked in. Now, don’t get me wrong: we had a fabulous time that night and I’m glad I had my wits about me. However, as we walked in and saw those three old dudes sitting shirtless in lawn chairs, drinking tall-cool-Budweisers, we both looked at each other and silently agreed that “DAMMMMMMMN that looks good.”

So, we set up shop Saturday morning. Since we were only tailgating for two (and since we were kind of pulling the whole operation out of our butts) our setup was, shall we say, less than complex. A morning Wal-Mart run ensured that we had the essentials (beer, chips, disposable cooler), but our base camp was severely lacking in other areas. Namely, we had nowhere to sit, being that the trunk of our rental car was the size of a VCR. Also, we soon realized that the tempest Goodyear winds made tossing our new Nerf football about as fun as playing flashlight tag during the day. Undeterred, we spent the next two hours pounding six beers each, finishing a bag of Salt n’ Vinegar chips, and yelling at all the damn Giants fans as they filed into the stadium. The highlight, undoubtedly, was getting one old lady to look back and yell “you wish!” (the most aggressive behavior we witnessed the whole time). The lowlight was finding out via text that the Reds had lost their closer, Ryan Madson, for the year. As far as offseason acquisitions go, the Madson pick-up was huge, so all I could do was this.

Overall, Saturday’s ballpark experience was similar to Thursday’s. The main difference was my lady-friend and I were half in the bag this time, making it harder to remember how many strikes there were and easier to badger Brandon Phillips into signing our hat. Reds starter Homer Bailey got hammered that day, and the Reds’ bats slept until about the seventh inning. Still, like the seasoned amateur scout I pretend to be, I took advantage of my ridiculously good view and dug into the baseball minutia. Between Thursday’s orientation and Saturday’s tipsy skull-session, I was able to compile a full report. You can hand in your ESPN Insider passes now, baseball fans, it’s all here...

1) Juan Francisco is fat. And when I say fat, I don’t mean husky, or stocky, or well-built. He’s fat, with a capital huge. I wasn’t surprised to hear he had put on weight in the offseason, but it was still shocking to see a dude that big and know he gets paid to be athletic. Francisco came into camp with a gimpy ankle, which makes perfect sense now. If I was carrying around a refrigerator all day, I’m pretty sure my joints would be sore too. Seriously, Juan, release the African Child.

2) It’s Jay Bruce’s year. People have speculated about Jay Bruce’s ceiling over the last few years, when he’s hit in the mid-.200’s and gone through maddening slumps. And up until now, I’ve led that charge. However, seeing him play in person (after shedding 15-20 pounds), I’m going to go on record and say this is the year he truly breaks out. In the only game I saw him in (he didn’t play Saturday) he had two doubles, and looked to be in a serious zone. He’s swinging free and easy, not getting fooled by pitches, and just generally enjoying himself. 35-40 homers, 130 RBI, a .280 average, and some MVP votes could happen. A Gold Glove will happen.

3) I’m worried about the rotation. THERE, I SAID IT. I know Spring Training numbers are supposed to basically be ignored, but I only semi-buy that. Especially when four of our five starters (Cueto, Arroyo, Leake, Bailey) have 5.00+ ERA’s. Oddly, the only one I’m not worried about is Arroyo, but that’s probably because deep inside I just don’t expect much out of him to begin with. Our saving grace looked to be Matt Latos, who’s now sidelined with a strained calf. If Aroldis Chapman can’t slide into the 5-hole (and with the injuries in the bullpen, it looks like management will be tempted to leave him there) I think the rotation has the potential to REALLY disappoint.

4) Zack Cozart will get Rookie of the Year consideration. Cozart, to me, looked like the real deal. He leads all Reds regulars in batting average (.413), and that’s in 46 at bats (third on the team). He’s done nothing to quell the notion that he’ll be a superlative shortstop, so if he hits at a decent clip and turns in the power/speed numbers we expect (18 homers, 20 steals?), he should give guys like teammate Devin Mesoraco and that cheese-stache in DC some serious competition.

5) Billy Hamilton could be terrifying. For those that don’t know, Billy Hamilton is one of the more highly-regarded Reds prospects in recent memory. Mainly, (ok, COMPLETELY) because of his speed. Last season, he set a Cincinnati organization record with 103 stolen bases. The next guy in his league had 63. (And, as a point of comparison, a good base-stealer in the big leagues wracks up around 50 these days.) Hamilton, if he ever can learn to hit at a big league level, could be a Rickey Henderson-like terror on the base paths. I saw him in one at-bat last weekend (his only big league at-bat of the spring), and to the shock of absolutely no one, when he got base (via walk), he stole second. Despite the fact that he’s about 5’8, 140 pounds, and looks like he's wearing Barry Bonds' helmet, it’s safe to be excited about Billy Hamilton.

6) Left field looks bleak. I’ve supported Chris Heisey from the jump. Whenever Dusty Baker has played him over the last few years, he’s produced. So, when the Reds brought in veteran left fielder Ryan Ludwick this winter, I stood steadfast in Heisey’s corner, concerned that he’d be cornholed once again. Heisey needed to pass this spring’s test with flying colors in order to carve out a spot ahead of Ludwick. Instead, he’s done his best Ferris Bueller impression, barely even showing up. Luckily for him (and unfortunately for Reds fans), Ryan Ludwick has absolutely failed as well, hitting .237, missing multiple days with the flu, and inexplicably taking the blame when Heisey stole Baker’s Porsche.

7) I am not as worried about the bullpen. Madson is injured. Nick Masset has arm issues and could miss a week or two. Chapman may make the rotation. These are all reasons to doubt the potency of our bullpen. Yet, for some reason, I don’t. Sean Marshall, Billy Bray, and Jose Arredondo have good enough stuff to close out games until Masset returns, and something tells me panic-mode will send Chapman to the pen anyway. Too much depth here to get worried just yet.

8) And, speaking of Chapman, I didn’t see him when we visited, but the injuries in the bullpen and ineffectiveness in the rotation all point to the Cuban Warlord being more of an X-Factor than we originally thought. He’s been lights out this spring (1.50 ERA, 12 K’s in 12 innings pitched), even as he stretches out in preparation to start. If he ends up in the rotation, he could immediately become the ace. If he stays in the ‘pen, he could morph into the closer. Either way Aroldis, now more than ever, needs to come up big.

9) Joey Votto will win the National League MVP. Last season, Votto’s numbers were down slightly, but that drop coincided with Scott Rolen being basically nonexistent. With Rolen completely healthy (he’s been performing really well this spring) and Bruce having a career year, expect Votto to pull in his second MVP. And, since Albert Pujols and Prince Fielder fled to the AL, a clean sweep at first base (MVP, Gold Glove, Silver Slugger) looks probable as well.

10) Prediction. It took a five-hour plane ride, two baseball games, twelve beers, and an icy sherpa-walk, but I came to a conclusion in Arizona. The Reds will win the division. Shocked? Don’t be, because it’s pretty simple. Cincinnati might not have the pitching that St. Louis (or even Milwaukee) does. However, with the recent injury (and unknown status) of Chris Carpenter, the Reds rotation won’t be far behind. That means, by all accounts, the Reds’ offense should be the difference. In 2012, I say Jay Bruce establishes himself as an elite talent. Scott Rolen, Brandon Phillips, and Zack Cozart will fill out a stacked lineup led by Joey Votto, who will continue to be Joey Votto. And Aroldis Chapman will be a difference-maker (finally), allowing the Reds to beat out the Cardinals in a late September push. This is my story, I’m sticking to it, and no amount of BBQ chimichangas will change my mind.



Reed Domer-Shank
JOURNEYMEN Founder and Chief Canyon Mule

Spring Training Research Spectacular: PART I

When my lady and I decided to take a trip to Cincinnati’s Spring Training in Goodyear, Arizona, our goals differed a bit. My expectations for the journey, of course, were simple: establish contact at Goodyear Stadium, observe and assess the state of all Reds personnel, and emerge with expert analysis. Jen’s, on the other hand, were more diverse. They included, but were not limited to: spend at least seven hours at the hotel pool, get solid pictures of Jay Bruce’s hindquarters, and partake in the Phoenix Area Chimichanga Week.

And as I sit here today, hollowed out by the post-vaca blues, I can say with confidence that all those objectives were met. But let’s not jump ahead.

The trip started like a lot of trips do. Dark, groggy cab ride to the airport. Wondering why the boarding pass lines for our airline were so much longer than the others. Walking by like eight NBC News Stand stores and wishing I had a curvy neck pillow.Those three things happen about 90% of the time I take a flight anywhere. And most of you are probably nodding silently, which means you’ve taken those exact steps countless times yourself. But let me tell you, friends...the monotony ended there.

Our first objective (and the main reason we needed to set our alarm to Ivory Coast time) was to arrive 45 minutes earlier than usual, per Southwest protocal, in order to ensure that the flight would be peanut-free. See, my co-pilot has a bad case of the If-I-Eat-A-Nut-I’ll-Die’s, a generally manageable disorder that only rears its ugly head at parties, baseball games, and delicious burger joints. Still, we all know it’s better to be safe than sorry, and we all also know that since you have to arrive seven hours early these days anyway, another 45 minutes doesn’t really matter (THANKS A LOT BIN LADEN).

Now, at that point I assumed they’d just hand out pretzels instead of peanuts and call it a day. Wrong. As soon as we said the words “peanut allergy”, the gate attendants went into Defcon-7 mode, pecked at their keyboards for a full minute and a half, and eventually produced this. Needless to say, the next hour was spent basking in the glow of our newfound celebrity, as we were now just as important as the people in wheelchairs and the guy who was so scared of flying that he had to wear a diaper.

Once on the plane (first row, leg-room for days), we were immediately engaged by Diaper-Man, who assumed the role of “guy who can’t tell that you just want to read.” As it happened, Joey-Fidgets turned out to be a real nice guy, but that fact was quickly overshadowed by the piercing noise that shot through the cabin. At first, all of us had a hard time diagnosing the disturbance. I agreed with the couple behind us, that it was some kind of “you forgot to close that compartment” alert. Jen, the resident Nat Geo aficionado, suggested that it sounded like raptor of some kind. And Joe didn’t say much of anything because his head was already under the seat.

Soon enough, we realized that one of our fellow Handicap Express Gold Club members (an old lady who never blinked) had brought a damn shitszu on board, and it was telling us in two-second intervals that it wasn’t completely comfortable with its situation. Immediately I texted my buddy Seeds, a shitszu owner, describing my situation and asking why his dog’s brother was so inconsiderate. He responded that a) I was spelling Shih Tzu wrong, and b) it was probably a sign that I should get one. I told him that that’s funny, because I assumed it was probably a sign that I should kill one. Semantics. Fortunately for everyone except Space Lady, the dog was removed in short order, and our flight to Baseball Mecca commenced.

The next event of note occurred at the airport rental car Superplex. In accordance with Murphy’s Law, we arrived and noticed that absolutely none of the eight to twelve car rental companies had any sort of line. Except, of course, Hertz, which appeared to be handing out free samples of cocaine. Being that we had pre-registered, we plopped down, waited about an hour and a half, and were eventually rewarded with what could only be described as a Chevy Muskrat. Over the course of our four-day adventure, this vehicle would lovingly be referred to as “jackrabbit”, “the clown whisperer”, and “that car Steve Urkel drove.” Still, its gas mileage was superb, so the statement it made about how massive my penis is turned out to be just an added bonus.

Our first stop in Phoenix was Alice Cooper’s rock-themed sports bar. Jen had seen it on Man vs Food and had already given me a comprehensive debriefing on their 22-inch chili dog. We ordered it as soon as we sat down, along with the “Elaine Benes Big Salad”, which turned out to be like paying for air conditioning in an igloo. Knowing I had a johnson the size of Detroit on the way, I did the only logical thing, which was to retire to the office to make some room. And sure enough, as I was turning Alice Cooperstown into Alice Pooperstown (a pun I would reuse at least six times over the course of the trip), I was interrupted by a piercing alarm that rattled the building, followed by about 15 cooks yelling “BIG UNIIIIIITTTTTTTTTTTTTT.” Now, normally I am not a lucky man, but the Gods smiled on me here. See, just as I had hoped, that Big Unit was our Big Unit, and as the whole arena-sized restaurant looked on, it was delivered to my waiting wife. I am told she sat there as the clientele cheered and whistled, like a tiny deer caught in headlights. It was an embarrassment of epic proportions, and a tale I will undoubtedly embellish to our grandchildren.

That evening, we headed to Goodyear Ballpark for our first game. Suffice it to say that I took copious Reds notes directly onto my brain-pad, but I’ll get to that hardcore research later.

That first night, as the sun filled the blue sky and set over the hills, I was struck by just how different Spring Training is. Fans amble in slowly and leisurely, decked out in all kinds of different team gear. There’s one parking lot (one!), and the tailgaters could be counted on one hand. Accustomed to the bustle of big league parks, I had a hard time getting used to the feel at Goodyear, where “relaxed” is a lazy understatement. Just as many people wandered around the concourse as sat in the seats, playing the free MLB 2K12 games near left field or tossing a wiffle ball near right. There were no unruly drunks, no obnoxious super-fans, and absolutely no tension of any kind. A quaint park in the middle of nowhere, people came simply because they love baseball. It may as well have been Ray Kinsella’s field of dreams.

The Reds won that night, something like 5-1, behind an encouraging performance from Matt Latos, the newly-acquired ace. But more than any other game I’ve attended, this one wasn’t about the score. It was about seeing the players horse around just as much during the seventh inning as during the pre-game warm-up, tripping each other in the dugout and tossing signed balls to fans. It was about 30-something journeymen like Ron Mahay and Clay Zavada, guys you’ll never hear about again, but that just want one more chance. It was about the 10,000-seat efficiency of a stadium, filled to the brim with optimism and camaraderie. Jen and I spent the evening hitting in the free batting cages, perusing the gift shop, and occasionally cheering with the crowd when the someone did something right. I watched as she stared dreamily at the Reds’ triumvirate of young outfielders (Jay Bruce, Chris Heisey, Drew Stubbs). She watched as I launched an assault on the concession stands, including the taco stand in right field and the Mr. Softee Truck parked along the third base line.

Eventually, when we couldn’t stomach any more Barro’s pizza or fish tacos, and when the regulars were yanked for guys with numbers in the 90’s, we decided to pack it in. The Arizona clocks said 9:30, but our clocks disagreed, and with a trip to the World’s Largest Hole in the morning, rest was a must.

Still, as we made the quiet 30-minute drive back to Phoenix and our hotel room, I couldn’t help but think day one was a success.


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Stay tuned for tomorrow’s Part II of my Spring Training Research Spectacular; featuring icy hikes of death, Mexican street meat, and some really crazy Asians.

Reed Domer-Shank

JOURNEYMEN Head Scout and Executive Food Critic

Hoop Greens: All the Action from St. Paddy's Day Weekend

I’m pretty sure a record was set on Saturday. As I sat at home on my couch, bursting at the seams with a nasty stomach bug, I observed my Facebook news feed churn out picture after picture of the same exact thing. Drunk girls. Wearing Green. Having a BLASTY- BLASTTTTTTTTTT!!!! I guarantee that AT LEAST half of you that are reading this will be tagged in an “OH-MI-GOD ST. PATTY’S DAYYYY” Facebook album within the next three days, if you haven’t been already. Or, of course, if you didn’t create one yourself.

Seriously, it was like the 100-year ban on drinking holidays had been lifted and the camera had been invented on the same day. Or maybe that’s just how it seemed to me. Sick, bitter, and too-dehydrated-to-stand-up me.

Normally, I would have pouted all day. No matter how easy that stuff is to make fun of (come on, you felt kind of lame shopping for “I-rish you would do me” shirts at Target, didn’t you?), it looked pretty damn enjoyable. But Saturday, thankfully, none of that mattered; I had what I needed. A little Gatorade, an equally sick wife, and a whole SHEEIT-load of basketball on TV.

Not a bad way to spend a day.

What follows are a few couch-reactions to one of the maddest March weekends in recent memory...

The battle for dopest uni’s was basically over before it started. Long Beach State
had it goin’ on and THEN some. That picture doesn’t even show their all-gold sneaks, so you’ll just have to trust me that THEM SHITS WAS GANKSTA. I mean, “‘Da Beach” would have been been even doper, but I guess sometimes you just have to ask yourself, how dope is too dope?

The Big Ten is just as dominant as we thought they were. After the first round of both the NIT and NCAA tournaments, B1G schools were 9-1. Four of those schools advanced to the NCAA tourney Sweet Sixteen (Ohio State, Michigan State, Indiana, Wisconsin). The only resounding failure? You guessed it: Zack Novak and the Voldemorts.

Watching Duke lose to Lehigh was one of the happier moments of my young life. It was like taking a walk through the pages of Dr. Seuss’s The Lorax, before the Once-ler came along, when all the Truffula Trees were still in effect and the Brown bar-ba-loots hadn’t gotten all scared and left.

And, if we’ve learned one thing about Lehigh, it’s that that CJ McCollom kid can really ball. However, if we’ve learned ANOTHER thing about Lehigh, it’s that their cheerleaders obviously have great personalities. I can only assume that at least one of those ladies is romantically involved with Buzz McCallister.

It’s truly amazing how every CBS/TNT/TruTV/TBS/Lifetime NCAA analyst knows soooooooo much more about the whole tournament field two days after the tourney begins than they ever could have figured out before. I mean, if your ONLY job was to watch basketball, would you have waited until AFTER Lehigh buried Duke to anoint McCollom the next Bob Cousy? Would you have waited until AFTER St. Louis beat Memphis to start beating your chest about what a great coach Rick Majerus is? Of course you wouldn’t, because that would be completely unoriginal and transparent. Tell me this, Digger Phelps: If Majerus is such a great coach, WHY IS HE STILL COACHING AT ST. LOUIS???

And when I think of college hoops announcers, I automatically think of the Raftery/Lundquist tandem, aka the Chicken and the Toad. Someone needs to tell Raftery that bellowing things like HMMMTHHABIGFELLLAAA and ONIONNSSSS stopped being cute the first time he did it.

The commercials during March Madness are kind of like the commercials during the Super Bowl, in that they’re absolutely pounded into the ground over the course of the program in order to etch thesmelves into our subconscious for months. Only problem is, Super Bowl commercials are generally funny. And the game only lasts four hours. Meanwhile, if we want to watch the NCAA tournament, we’re forced to sit through about 150 Buick Verano commercials, all of which make me want to toss Peter Frampton and the Neon Trees into a food processor.

Speaking of commercials, I’d like to volunteer my services to any ad agency that can’t seem to come up with better fake basketball team names than “State” and “Tech.” I’m assuming a breakthrough of this magnitude would pay me well into my forties.

And one more thing about commercials. Normally, the “N-N-N-NAPA know-how” spots leave me a little hollow inside. However, in their March Madness edition, NAPA really stepped up their game with the excitable dude that carries the portable shot clock. Give me that guy saying “THIS IS HIS HOUSE, GUYS” and the chubby State Farm agent slapping his own booty on the Jumbrotron, and keep all the rest. Yes, “Assassin’s Creed: Time To Kill Some Brits”, that includes you.

And now, finally, a few things that have nothing to do with college basketball, but are interesting all the same...

I had the chance to see Lebron James up close and personal Friday night, when the Heatles visited the Sixers. I spent the whol enight trying to come up with something witty to yell that had to do with his Mom and Delonte West and how she could have done so much better. Nothing really came to me, so instead I just ended up watching him make everyone else look like little children. It wasn’t very satisfying.

When the Dolphins went to Plan C (talking to Alex Smith), I had to laugh. That was Saturday. Today, when it was announced that they signed David Garrard, I pretty much just cringed. I can only assume that was Plan Q.

Speaking of Things No One Ever Wanted To Do, now that Peyton has landed in Denver, teams around the league seem to be considering trading for Tim Tebow. Early candidates appear to be the Jacksonville Jaguars, the San Francisco 49ers, and the Little Giants.


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Thursday morning, the lady and I head to Goodyear, Arizona to check out some Cincinnati Reds Spring baseball! Stay tuned later this week for various reports on Minor League Camp positional battles, third base line fish tacos, and how the Grand Canyon looks from my seat behind the dugout.


Reed Domer-Shank
JOURNEYMEN CEO and Editor in Chief

ZE MADNESS EEZ UPON US! Observations and Analysis for the 2012 Big Dance

I’m not sure what it is about the NCAA Tournament, but every March when the brackets are announced I turn into a giddy schoolgirl.

It’s always the same scene. The conference tourneys juice me up, allowing nondescript teams to carve out automatic bids (St. Bonaventure) or gain momentum (Florida State). Then the selection show airs about seven seconds after the Big Ten Championship Game and BOOYAH, the tournament field is set and the Internet practically shatters.

Then, the next day at work, I do what I assume every other guy in America does, which is print out eight copies of the brackets and spend the next three days writing equations on mirrors.

Some years I’ll channel all my efforts into one triumphant Bracket of Power and enter it into every pool possible. Other times I’ll take a few different angles, aiming to cut my losses and possibly emerge with a few bucks. And then, of course, there was 1999, where I decided I’d be a genius and enter seven different brackets into the same pool, mainly because I had just aced Algebra II.

But that’s what’s amazing about March Madness. There is no right way. You can be the NCAA equivalent of John Forbes Nash, but after that first weekend of nonstop hoops you’ll inevitably be 64 points behind the leader, praying that schools like Wofford would burn to the ground, and wishing you could stab that tart from sales who’s only winning because her cousin went to UConn.

It’s why the NCAA’s can be so damned heartbreaking. It’s why they call it March Madness. And it’s why it is HANDS DOWN the best sporting event of the year.

So, in preparation for today’s 12:15 tip-off, here are a few observations, a few things to look forward to, and a few tips that might just make your stank-ass bracket even worse.

You’re welcome.

Most Exciting Game to Watch - I happen to think Wichita State/VCU is going to a GREAT game, especially if you’re into games that feature dudes no one has ever heard of and schools you can’t find on a map. Wichita State scores almost 80 points a game and is led by a bunch of experienced little guys who get up and down the floor. Meanwhile, VCU runs the “Havoc” defense -- meaning coach Shaka Smart will press Wichita State like a panini all game long. The result? A bunch a running, a bunch of turnovers, a bunch of transition three’s, and a whole lot of insanity. I think both of these squads are legit, but I see the 5-seed Wichita State moving on.

Easiest Road to the Final Four- This is one of those moments where I’m about to say things that I am sure will soon make me want to stick my head in a microwave. Still, facts are facts: Ohio State lucked out. Top to bottom, the East region is full of teams that either were good like four years ago (West Virginia, Cincinnati, Texas) or that the Selection Committee thinks are way better than they actually are because of the way they overachieved in their conference tourneys (Florida State, Vandy). Then, consider that the top team in the region (Syracuse) just lost their starting center to ineligibility, and suddenly the path to New Orleans looks a little clearer. I’m not saying OSU will cut down the nets. Nay, in all likelihood, they’ll do the same thing they’ve done every year in recent memory (lose to a team they shouldn’t and cause me to spiral into a depressing abyss filled with comfort beers and Thin Mints.) The only difference? This year they have no excuse.

A Shocking Early Exit - It’s no secret that everyone is scared of Kentucky. And no, it’s not just because they have the largest and mouthiest fan base in college basketball. And no, it’s not because most of those fans have carbine potato guns waiting in their trunk. Mostly it’s because UK has a high-powered lineup of future NBA stars, led by defensive specimen and anti-razor lobbyist Anthony Davis. Kentucky will obviously bulldoze WKU in the first round (I don’t buy into that play-in game garbage; Thursday and Friday will always be the first round). However, I see things getting hairy when they meet Connecticut in round two. UConn may not have the elite talent that UK does, and they definitely don’t have someone as intimidating as Frida Kahlo. Still, I think they come with a chip on their shoulder, and I KNOW they come with more experience and a better point guard. Either way , this is one of those predictions that will make me look like a genius if I’m right and that you’ll forget about if I’m wrong. Kind of a win-win.

Five Upsets to Bank On

1) West Virgina(10) over Gonzaga(7) - I can barely remember the days when Gonzaga could be considered a Cinderella. Ever since the days of Dan Dickau, the Zags have dominated the WCC on the court and in team GPA. Basically they’re Duke, only a little whiter. Still, flying across the country to face a lower-seeded team in their own backyard (WVU is about 70 miles from Pittsburgh) was a putrid draw. Despite their many inconsistencies, the super-scorer Kevin Jones leads the Mountaineers to a close win.

2) South Florida(12) over Temple(5) - When ESPN’s fantasy sports guru Matthew Barry asked the question “what are some good upsets” on his Facebook page, I told him South Florida over Temple. When someone asked the same thing on Twitter, I replied the same way. Since the brackets were published, and even in the midst of all the “Cal got under-seeded” chatter, I was confident that not only would USF beat Cal, they’d also roll over Temple too. Well, last night the Bulls held Cal to 13 points in the first half, completely smothering them. Sorry Owls fans: ya’ll ‘bout ta’ get rolled too.

3) NC State(11) over San Diego State(6) - Before going on a four-game winning streak to end the regular season (beating the likes of Virginia and Miami in the process), NC State lost to Duke, Florida State, and Virginia by 10 points...COMBINED. This may not be a Final Four team, but after losing a nail-biter to the Heels in the ACC tourney, I say the Wolfpack has enough to overpower San Diego State.

4) Purdue(10) over St. Mary’s(7) - ESPN analyst Jay Bilas made a great point in his analysis of this game. Purdue is a proud basketball program, in a proud basketball conference (the Big Ten). Coming in as an underdog to a mid-major like St. Mary’s surely has to have pissed some folks off in West Lafayette. In what will be Purdue great Robbie Hummel’s last tourney, I see Purdue putting up enough of a fight to advance to the second round.

5) Virgina(10) over Florida(7) - Ok, so if you’re going to completely ignore any of my picks, let it be this one. I might be a bit biased. First, Joakim “The Hairy Serpent” Noah has made me despise the Gators for life. Second, I picked them to beat Alabama the other day by four. They won by three. I see absolutely no reason to trust Florida ever again, and if there were a Facebook petition to cut the whole state off the bottom of the country and float it out into the Atlantic, I’d sign. (PS - if you aren’t buying that, also take a look at Belmont over Georgetown...ALL the cool kids are doing it.)

And finally, the Big Salami, the Top Banana, the Lord of Lords. That is, the official JOURNEYMEN choice to cut down the nets...

With UConn dispatching UK, Syracuse faltering early, and UNC/Kansas facing off in the Elite Eight, the field really opens up. I see Ohio State breaking all trends and getting to the Final Four to meet up with fellow 2-seed Kansas. On the other side, Baylor skates past Duke and UConn to set up a Big 12 rematch with Missouri. Mizzou won that matchup thrice already this season, will win again, and will be too fast for the resurgent Buckeyes in the title game. Tigers win it all.

Now please excuse me as I go load up on Thin Mints.

Reed Domer-Shank

JOURNEYMEN Worldwide

CUT THAT MEAT! CUT THAT MEAT! Why Peyton Manning's Laser Rocket Arm Is Headed To Miami

Unless you’ve been completely pre-occupied with following the Republican primary, or making yourself watch another excruciating episode of HBO’s Luck, you’ve probably heard about that quarterback from Indianapolis who just posted his resume on The Ladders. Speculation has been widespread regarding Peyton Manning’s new landing spot, with places like Arizona and Denver leading the conversation after weekend visits. Some say Peyton could make his decision as soon as Tuesday.

Well, that speculation ends today.

In JOURNEYMEN’s inaugural guest blogger issue, South Florida correspondent and legal consultant Matthew Feluren checks in to explain why there is only ONE destination that Peyton is considering. (Hint: it’s not Denver.)

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It’s a Thursday night in Tennessee. Peyton Manning is wearing a plaid button down and drinking a citrus cooler Gatorade at a local YMCA. Jim Nantz sits across from him, asking questions about his past with Indianapolis, the pressure of choosing a new place of employment, and how great Colts owner Jim Irsay has treated him over the past decade. Then, finally, Peyton proudly announces: “Next Season, I’ll be taking my talents to Miami Gardens…”

I know, I know. It’s been done before and the Dolphins need another starting veteran quarterback like Snooki needs a baby. But I’m hear to tell you why Miami is the best landing spot for number 18. The most important aspect in Peyton’s decision is winning -- the only thing he cares about at this point in his career. The Fins offer Peyton the best chance to win now with their young, talented roster and new coaching staff.

Here’s why...

First, Miami boasts an array of weapons for Peyton, and that starts with Reggie Bush. For Peyton, a guy who had his best seasons dumping off passes to Edgerrin James, a good, reliable, dual-threat running back is crucial. Bush proved this past season that he’s more than just a receiving threat, especially after the Kim Kardashian Effect kicked in. (It is a well known fact and almost as consistent as gravity that Reggie ignites more “REG-GIE! REG-GIE!” chants when Kim is single and “having coffee” with him than when she’s dating no-name basketball players).

As for the receiving core, everyone knows Brandon Marshall is the prize and has managed to set NFL records with the likes of Kyle Orton. With Peyton getting the ball to Marshall, the possibilities are endless. Additionally, the Dolphins have one of the best kept secrets in the slot in Davone Bess, who is ALWAYS open on third down. Then, The Fins have an underrated piece in second year fullback/tight end Charles Clay, who is basically a bigger, faster Dallas Clark.

Like every great warrior, to compliment these great weapons a superior shield is needed (except for Jack Bauer and Chuck Norris who need no shields). The Fins offer Peyton a brick wall of a shield in Jake Long, their All Pro left tackle. Peyton’s biggest fear after multiple neck surgeries is having a 6’5 280-pound monster running at cheetah speeds toward his surgically-repaired neck. With Jake Long, the Fins offer Peyton the peace of mind of knowing that his backside is protected.

Lastly, not much needs to be said about the Dolphins defense. It’s a young, talented unit, led by an All Pro end rusher in Cameron Wake, Karlos Dansby stopping the run, Yeremiah Bell playing center field, and Vontae Davis blanketing number one receivers. The Fins offer Peyton a better defensive complement than he's had since the Clinton Administration.

Turning from the roster, Miami offers Peyton a fresh start with a fresh coaching staff and an owner obsessed with winning. New Head Coach Joe Philbin comes with a proven system executed to perfection by Aaron Rodgers. Unlike any other possible suitors, Miami can start fresh with Peyton instead of inserting him into a previously existing scheme.

Next, let’s face it: Miami is a football town with a basketball problem. (No offense Miamians or Miamites, but showing up to a basketball game eight minutes after tip off featuring three of the top fifteen players in the sport does not mean you’re a basketball fan.) Miami has always been the Dolphins’ town and Peyton can restore that tradition. Miami has plenty of personalities (Lebron James, Dwyane Wade, Chris Bosh, and Ozzie Guillen) to dominate the media, allowing Peyton to hide in Davie at Dolphins headquarters throwing to his new receivers. Further, Peyton has a home in South Florida and so does Reggie Wayne (go ahead, try to find a team pursuing Peyton that offers a better wide receiver corps than Brandon Marshall, Reggie Wayne, and Davone Bess. Still thinking? Ok, point proven). Lastly, Peyton will have a chance to beat the model/quarterback in New England twice a year, a priceless opportunity.

Recent history has shown the Fins can be successful with a quarterback who can hit his receivers. Remember the 2008 season when the Dolphins signed former enemy Chad Pennington and won the AFC East? Remember, Chad Pennington finished second in the MVP voting that season? (Guess who came in first…) All this was accomplished by a less talented roster and Pennington’s shoulder, which was held together by Elmer’s Glue. You still don’t think Peyton could give the Dolphins four to five great seasons?

Finally, there are rumors floating around of other possible destinations for Peyton. None of those stand a chance against Miami. Seattle is great if you enjoy a city where it rains 488 days a year. Kansas City is nice, except it’s in Missouri. Denver would be a great landing spot for a college junior who is following the Dave Matthews Band summer tour (or if God told you to go there -- cough cough). Arizona would work, except it’s basically Miami with an income tax, and without the beaches, good-looking women, and amazing lifestyle. And finally, the Jets had no chance, which is why they just signed Mark Sanchez.

Peyton will be the best quarterback to play football in Miami since Dan “the Man” Marino (unless you count “Steamin’” Willie Beamen in 1999). He will fill the void left for 13 years in every Miami fan’s heart, one that could not be filled by greats like Jay Fiedler (the best Jewish quarterback ever), Ray Lucas, Daunte Culpepper, Sage Rosenfels, and Trent Green.

For these obvious reasons, watch as Peyton Manning chooses to take his talents to Miami Gardens, where post-game celebrations with part owners Marc Anthony, J.Lo, the Williams Sisters, and team friends Fergie, Will.I.Am, and Will Smith will follow each victory.

Peyton, the orange carpet is calling!


Matthew Feluren, Esq.
JOURNEYMEN Guest Blogger and Legal Consultant


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Feel like telling your sports story? Think you can do it better than us? E-mail me directly (Reed.Domershank@gmail.com) to join the JOURNEYMEN guest blogger circuit!

B1G Tourney, B1G Questions: What To Watch For Today In Indy

I started formulating this column in my mind last week.

At the time, I was totally prepared to defile the Ohio State Basketball team with my words. Lethargic, uninspired home losses against Michigan State and Wisconsin were painful enough. But losing at Michigan (and, in essence, affording that crusty-faced Zack Novak a share of the Big Ten title) was pure torture.

The problems with this team seemed to be many, and to run deep. Divided leadership. Zero three-point threats. The offense disappearing for halves at a time. Yes, as the Big Ten tourney loomed, I was fully prepared to give this squad a literary punch to the neck.

Then, of course, things got weird.

Instead of going into the Izzone and getting punished like tardy seventh-graders, the Buckeyes came in looking like the Thad Matta teams of old. They played great team D. Their elder statesmen (Buford, Ravenel) exhibited amazing leadership in cuing a comeback. And, for the most part, the offense got contributions from the right guys (Sully, Buford, DESHAUN).

Now, instead of hoping this sluggish bunch of square pegs could garner a four-seed for the NCAA tourney (on rep alone), we’re sitting comfortably in a two-slot, riding the high of a huge confidence boost. Granted, confusion remains. But the win at Michigan State makes us rest easier as conference tourney play starts today.

Here’s a look at every team in the B1G field, with everything you need to know boiled into one sentence:

#12 Penn State - Matched up against Indiana (in Indiana); might quit at halftime.

#11 Nebraska - There are intramural teams at Ohio State that could beat these Huskers.

#10 Minnesota - Has the coach and the athletes to make waves.

#9 Illinois - Bruce Weber is a lame duck, could get run by a plucky Iowa squad.

#8 Iowa - Plucky.

#7 Northwestern - Star player looks like a 15 year-old trombone player.

#6 Purdue - Robbie Hummel and a bunch of college cafeteria workers.

#5 Indiana - Home court advantage + Senor Zeller could = finals.

#4 Wisconsin - Zzzzzzzzzzzzz (inability to perform on big stage = one and done).

#3 Ohio State - Analyzed below.

#2 Michigan - Trey Burke makes an otherwise mediocre team legit.

#1 Michigan State - Deep, talented, and led by the whiniest dude this side of Tim Duncan.

As I glance at the tourney brackets, a few things stand out. First, Indiana, with its recharged fan base and infusion of new talent could literally win the whole thing. They’ve got a gimme’ today against PSU and a very beatable Wisconsin team in round two (UW has three home losses this year, a great indication of a downturn in Madison and a stat that’s got every Badger fan seeing red.) Then, since every game is played in Indianapolis, they could very easily upset the #1-seeded MSU, just as they did nine days ago in Bloomington.

And second, I love that I’m more comfortable with Ohio State’s positioning as a three seed than I would be if they were the one. Michigan State could likely face Illinois and Indiana in two days, two teams that handed them losses during the regular season. If the Spartans are going to reach the finals on Sunday, they’re going to earn it, plain and simple.

OSU, on the other hand, is in a bracket with five VERY beatable teams. In round two they’ll likely get Purdue, a shell of its former E’twaun/JaJuan self. That’s a win. In round three they’ll either get Northwestern(beat ‘em by 30), Minnesota (handled them easily), or Michigan (the weakest #2 in the history of #2’s.) Not saying it’ll be a day at the beach, but you have to breathe easier knowing that Tom Izzo, Cody Zeller, and Brandon “43 points” Paul are in the other bracket. That said, Ohio State should be playing Sunday in the championship game, and they will if a few things occur:

1. Sully Needs to Get Calls- It’s no secret that Jared Sullinger has been getting LESS respect as a sophomore than he got as a freshman. His numbers are down and his confidence often seems to drag. The fact is, Sully has been getting to the foul line about 20% less this year than last (discussed yesterday in this Columbus Dispatch article) and it’s taken it’s toll. Normally when a bruiser like Sullinger gets mugged in the paint, he reaps the reward at the free throw line. The fact that he hasn’t (as much) has clearly burrowed its way into Sullinger’s psyche, and has cost the Buckeyes wins.

2. Help Defense in the Paint - I mentioned this in a recent blog post, but it bears repeating. One way defenses have been taking away Sullinger is by floating help defense over to swat at him when he initiates a move in the post. In the past, Sully could combat that strategy by alertly kicking the ball to Jon Diebler, who basically had a condo on the other side of the three-point line. Now, teams know the Buckeyes can’t hit three’s, so they’re content to gang-bang Sullinger all day. Whether or not a team has a threat like Diebler, Thad Matta needs to send some boys of his own in to help in the post. Why? Because, plainly, Sullinger cannot defend. At least not at the level he needs to. Last season, Sullinger’s post defense could be overlooked because senior center Dallas “Gorilla Arms” Lauderdale was there to punish fools. This year, it’s basically Sully on an island, and he has failed repeatedly.

3. DESHAUN needs to focus - As I’ve said before, DESHAUN Thomas is DESHAUN (instead of plain old Deshaun) because any time he gets involved, he has the ability to change the tide of the game (which is why I yell DESHAUN! every time he gets his hands on the rock). Unfortunately, DESHAUN usually plays the game on DESHAUN time, which means half the time he’ll be skying for rebounds and droppoing easy J’s, and the other half he’ll be picking dandelions and daydreaming about his iPad. Assuming teams are battering Sully to a oozing pulp (they will be), the Buckeyes have two scorers - William Buford and DESHAUN. If DESHAUN decides to only play half a game, OSU may as well quit now. They may sneak by Nebraska and Penn State that way, but Michigan State will bury them.

4. Buford Must Ride Momentum - I couldn’t have been happier Sunday when William Buford suplexed Michigan State with his last second jumper. Mainly because OSU won the game and Michigan State looked like a bunch of dicks in front of their home crowd. But also because even as the third all-time scorer in Ohio State history, Buford has been maligned more than he’s been celebrated. His abysmal outing last March against UK (2-16 from the field, missed the final shot) was probably enough, but then he disappeared in several games this season as well, prompting fans and media alike to question is leadership ability and mental toughness. However, facing OSU’s equivalent of judgement day Sunday in East Lansing, Buford woke up to the tune of 25 points, including that last second dagger. With opponents’ increased attention on Sullinger and DESHAUN’s propensity for forgetting what time the game starts, Buford HAS to score. He just has to. If he doesn’t, the Buckeyes exit early. This weekend, and in the Big Dance.

Prediction: Ohio State takes advantage of an easy road to the finals on Sunday, then gets knocked flat by a deeper and more mature Michigan State squad looking for revenge. OSU secures a 2 seed in the Dance, Michigan State lands a 1.