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Volume 11

In most North American sports, the late-season reasons to bite one’s nails stem from one’s team trying to clinch a playoff spot or a division title. The real season, so to speak, is the postseason. This tradition of utilizing playoffs to crown a champion puts the impetus for excitement on the middle of the pack, those teams still ostensibly in the hunt. Bottom feeders have little relevance beyond their potential to play the spoiler role.

Teams (and the fans that support them) are not always as lucky in other parts of the globe. A drift into the bottom rungs of the standings brings with it more than merely the barbs of late-night comedians and newspaper columnists. For teams staring out from the relegation zone, the sting of ignominy is coupled with the realization that another team will be taking their place in the top flight next season. For these pitiable squads, failure literally brings both insult and injury.

After all, there will always be another season for North American franchises who become residents of the statistical cellar. Even a team like the Detroit Lions can go 0-16 and still be guaranteed sixteen NFL matchups next year. Professional sports leagues in North America are insular constructs by this model -- the only means of culling the weakest of franchises are contraction and relocation. A team can tank its season knowing that the only consequences aside from potential ticket sales will be a high draft pick and diminished expectations waiting for the next season.

As a non-traditional sports fan, I have followed soccer since my adolescence. I have always watched intently to see who would drop out of the Premiership or Serie A or the Primera Liga each season. I remember the first time I found The Miracle of Castel di Sangro by Joe McGinniss -- an account by an American author as he followed an Italian Serie B club. But this wasn’t just any club; Castel di Sangro, from a village of but five-thousand in the impoverished Abruzzo region, was the smallest town to field a team in such a high division.

Never before, though, have I had to endure the ulcerous flare-ups of fear and revulsion that accompany watching one’s own team flirt with the plummet. I have been a fan of just a few teams throughout my fanatic’s existence when it comes to soccer... and now for the first time in fourteen years of following the sport, the perils of relegation have finally found their way across the Atlantic to my very doorstep...

Newcastle United has been a staple of the English Premier League since their arrival in the league’s second season in 1993-1994. The big clubs had just split apart from the Football Association (FA) and the Football League the season before, and Newcastle revamped its squad to take the First Division title and earn promotion to the nascent big-kid’s table. Once there, they quickly asserted themselves to become a perennial contender for the top half of the table. Never before in the club’s Premiership history had it drifted lower than fourteenth in the standings for the season, always remaining respectable enough to stay in the Premiership and, in most years, to attain a spot in one of the various lucrative European competitions.

I came to discover an affinity for the squad in 1998. when my father had an employee from Newcastle working for him during that summer. As we watched France win that summer’s World Cup, he regaled me with stories about his home club. I soon found myself adopting them as my own. Patrick was even kind enough to send back a jersey straight from St James’ Park, the heart of it all. I endured that season under Ruud Gullit which led to a thirteenth-place finish but a runner-up finish in the FA Cup. Then it was Sir Bobby Robson’s five-year reign, which culminated in successive finishes of fourth and third in 2001-02 and 2002-03. After Robson’s exit, Graeme Souness stepped in and got the Shearer-led squad to the semifinals of the UEFA Cup and another top-five finish.

Recent seasons, though, have pointed toward this fall from grace. Souness was never going to endear himself to the fans with his surly demeanor, and after the fourteenth-place campaign of 2004-05 and a string of six straight winless games to begin the turn of the calendar into the 2006 side of the subsequent season, Souness was sacked. The season ended on a high note, one fleeting moment for the flagging club, with a seventh-place finish. The following two seasons saw finishes back below the mean point. During this five-year stretch, the team employed nine managers in addition to several other caretaker managers. This all forbade an eventual demise...

The season started brilliantly enough, with Kevin Keegan still under control of the club after he took over for the sacked Sam Allardyce in January 2008. The team drew their first game of the season 1-1 against two-time defending Premiership champion Manchester United -- at Old Trafford! The Magpies then defeated Bolton Wanderers in their home opener at St James’ Park, 1-0, to climb to their premature zenith of the season -- fourth in the table. A loss to Arsenal at Emirates Stadium in London did little to dilute the enthusiasm being felt Tyneside.

Such lofty heights, borne of the expectation of a seven-game unbeaten streak which had taken place under Keegan’s stewardship at the end of the 2007-08 campaign, would soon become mere pipe dreams as the framework collapsed. Keegan left in a row after the transfer window closed and September began, stating that “a manager must have the right to manage and that clubs should not impose upon any manager any player that he does not want.”

Fan protests did little to stave the demise of the club. Chris Houghton stepped in as the team’s first caretaker. He served through the month of September, a period in which the club lost at home to Hull City and Blackburn Rovers and away to West Ham United. Joe Kinnear stepped in for Houghton as the figurehead in October, and started to right the ship before a heart condition put him on the sidelines in February. Houghton stepped in along with Colin Calderwood to take stewardship of the club once again.

With the season pretty much pissed away thoroughly, the club realized that something would need to be done to at least plan for the club’s future. After the departure of fan favorite and prodigal son Kevin Keegan under such startling circumstances in September, the club needed something to restore faith amongst the fan base. In arrived the successor to Keegan in the hearts of the fanatics, Alan Shearer, who took over on an interim basis for the final eight games of the season in April. With the club buried in eighteenth place, staring relegation squarely in the face, Shearer had a tall task ahead of him.

Two draws and three losses in his first five games were just enough to keep the club steady on the cusp of relegation in eighteenth. A 3-1 defeat of Middlesbrough in the northeastern derby pushed Newcastle up into la salvezza (as the Italians say), but even that breath of fresh air was short lived. Fulham, comfortably in the top half of the table, defeated Newcastle at St James’ Park to push the Magpies back below the relegation line. Only the season finale on Sunday, on the road against Aston Villa at Villa Park in Birmingham, remains on the schedule.

Newcastle must win against Aston Villa along with receiving a little luck, either via a loss or a draw by Hull City or a loss by their other northeast rival, Sunderland. Hull City play Manchester United, who, already assured of the title for a third straight season, will rest most of its starters in advance of the UEFA Champions League final against Barcelona on May 27 in Rome. Sunderland face Chelsea, who are guaranteed either second or third place -- and an assured spot in the Champions League next season. Meanwhile Aston Villa could still leapfrog over Everton into the top five with a victory over Newcastle... so Shearer faces a tough task in his last game of this interim season in charge of the club at which he dazzled with so many heroics on the pitch.

This fan genuflects in doleful penitence, seeking some salvation from this sensation. But I can’t get too glum... these things are destined to happen sooner or later in sports. Fortunes are cyclical, even for the mighty. And after all, it has been a week for the ages, one which has encompassed the summits of sport’s potential highs and the deepest of athletic abysses. From triumphant returns to literal death defiance, the proof that there is true gender equality regardless the species in question, and a battle of the titans which skewed for a change to permit some semblance of revenge for the usurped, we’ve seen the full swath of sensations encompassing every emotion involved in our spectator pursuits.

Two gilded athletes each found himself forced into a hiatus from his respective sport. One’s extracurricular enervations led to a quasi-sanctioned sabbatical; the other faced his own mortality in his path toward the sidelines. Both returned this weekend amidst great fanfare to pick up where each had left off... conquering their competitors in a show of force which presages big things in Britain in three years’ time.

Everyone by know knows the story of Michael Phelps. A 23-year-old from Baltimore who, in the span of two Olympiad has become the winningest athlete in the century-long history of Pierre de Courbertin’s athletic vision, Phelps sets his sights on London 2012 with the intent on adding to his already-record haul of fourteen gold medals before riding off into the sunset. He was the all-American face of what the Olympics are supposed to be all about. And then, in the stroke of snapshot capturing Phelps partaking in a seemingly innocuous activity not even sanctioned out of competition by the IOC or FINA, the golden boy found himself being lambasted by media around the world and accepting a voluntary three-month suspension from USA Swimming.

But now the suspension is up, and Phelps returned to the pool for his first meet since the his record-breaking eighth gold in Beijing. He lined up for five events at the Charlotte UltraSwim -- and only two, the 200-meter freestyle and the 100-meter butterfly, were on his Beijing Olympic program. He took the victory in each of those races on Friday evening, asserting himself in two of his signature events and demonstrating that his layoff has not affected his tenacity or fitness.

Phelps, though, is no Superman. He cannot do it all, apparently... at least not yet. He failed to win any of the other three events in which he competed -- the 50-meter and 100-meter freestyle and the 100-meter backstroke. He finished out of the final in the 50-meter free, and finished nearly a minute behind winner Frederick Bousquet -- the man who bested 100 free world record holder Alain Bernard and took his own world record in the 50 free at the French National Championships back in April -- in the 100-meter free. Aaron Peirsol, winner in the event at the past two Olympiads, bested Phelps quite handily in the 100-meter backstroke.

Regardless of the outcome, though, Phelps was merely happy to get back to the pool. “For my first meet back, I have no complaints,” he said. “We’re on the right track. This is exactly where I want to be.” He now has three-plus years to prepare for London -- time to burnish his new events to the point where we will likely see yet more golden accolades. He’s already well on that path... if he can show up on the line after nine months of talk shows and bong-hits, easily pip the field in two signature events and finish only behind the preeminent swimmer in two others, well -- let’s just say that the Phelps’ competition best be wary of the boy from Baltimore...

It was certainly not marijuana that tripped up triple gold medalist and world-record holder Usain Bolt this winter. The sprinter, famous for his freakish burst of speed and his zest for carefree living, somehow escaped relatively unscathed from the wreckage of his Puma-provided BMW. Driving along Highway 2000, one of the newest freeways through his native Jamaica, Bolt lost control of his Z3 and left a trail of car parts in his wake. Extricating himself from the rubble, Bolt’s biggest injury came when he stepped barefoot onto some thorns, roughing up the sole of his fleet left foot and forcing him to withdraw from that weekend’s meet, his home event in Kingston.

Bolt would spend the next several weeks rehabbing his mangled foot -- which ended up requiring surgery. The clock was ticking, as Bolt frantically tried to recuperate in time to fulfill his commitment to race at the Great Manchester Races on May 17. Despite being largely unable to regain his race fitness, Bolt arrived in Manchester to race in the final heat (having been exempted from the qualifying heats by the organizers).

So what did Bolt come out and do? He stumbled out of the blocks... and then proceeded to break the world record in the 150-meter discipline. Coming in with a time of 14.35 seconds over 150 meters, Bolt bested second-place Marlon Devonish of Britain by nearly three-quarters of a second (15.07) and broke Donovan Bailey’s 12-year-old mark by two-thirds of a second (14.99). There’s nothing like a quirky distance to bring out the best in a competitor who loves fun new challenges. Bolt ran the final hundred meters in 8.70 seconds, nearly a second faster than his world-record time in that distance -- though of course this is mitigated by the fact that he was already in stride versus coming out of the blocks.

The scary thing, though, is the fact that Bolt is already looking in form and confident despite having just returned from his temporary setback. By his own estimation, “I'm probably only 70 percent fit and I've got a lot of work to do and need to buckle down right now.” With this kind of message sent, Asafa Powell and all the others who might challenge Bolt must be redoubling their own efforts...

This is the same message which Calvin Borel sent to his fellow jockeys in racing Rachel Alexandra to the first victory for a filly at the Preakness Stakes since Nellie Morse in 1924, the era of Helen Wills Moody and Sonja Henie in the world of women’s sports. Borel, in doing so, gave up his opportunity at the elusive Triple Crown atop Mine That Bird, who under Mike Smith took a late-charging second behind Borel to spoil Mine That Bird’s bid at becoming the first horse to take all three races since Affirmed in 1978 -- and the first to do it under the guidance of multiple riders.

Instead it is Borel who, as the first rider to win the Kentucky Derby and Preakness Stakes in the same year on separate horses, is looking at an unprecedented Jockey Triple Crown. But which horse will Calvin be riding at Belmont Park June 6?

New owners Jess Jackson and Harold T. McCormick, who purchased the horse from then-owner Dolphus Morrison after her astounding Kentucky Oaks victory for somewhere between $7 million and $10 million dollars, have expressed initial reservations about racing the filly three times in five weeks. Steve Asmussen, Rachel’s trainer, has stated, “Immediately, right now it doesn't feel the same as it did before. She may be coming out more tired than I know.” If she does not go at Belmont, Borel would be a free agent once again.

Which, incidentally, was how he came to ride Mine That Bird to his upset last-to-first Derby upset. The question, then, would be whether Mine That Bird owners Mark Allen and Leonard Blatch and trainer Chip Woolley will have Borel back after he spurned them at the Preakness. But Mine That Bird’s jockey at Pimlico, Mike Smith, will not be there for the Belmont due to previous obligations on his regular mount Madeo, who will be racing on the same day at the Whittington Stakes at Hollywood Park in California.

So the door is open... it will be interesting to see in the next two weeks what happens with Borel’s ride. It would sure be a shame to see Borel miss an opportunity at this once-unimaginable possibility, especially since he has never had a chance to race in the Belmont Stakes...

It may be all about opportunity, but as sports all around prove, it isn’t until you’ve been there before and proven yourself worthy that a champion can emerge. That is why Borel seems to be aging like a fine oak-barreled bourbon, and why Danilo Di Luca will be riding in the Stage 12 time trial at the Giro d’Italia from Sestri Levante to Riomaggiore in the maglia rosa. Riding like a man possessed after returning from his suspension for alleged (though never proven) involvement in the Oil for Drugs case being investigated against Dr. Carlos Santuccione since 2003. Riding for LPR Brakes, a small Italian outfit that only squeaked into the Giro on a wild-card invite largely due to Di Luca’s status as a former champion, Di Luca has won two stages -- Stage 4 from Padova to the summit finish at San Martino di Castrozza; and Stage 10, the queen stage (which followed the famous 1949 Giro stage route on which Fausto Coppi formed the bulk of his 23 MINUTE victory over perennial rival Gino Bartali) after the rest day from Cuneo to Pinerolo -- and is now eighty seconds clear of nearest rival Denis Menchov.

But Di Luca is looking at a challenging 61-kilometer time-trial course... and he has several major contenders within easy striking distance who are much better at the discipline than he. Michael Rogers, the three-time world time-trial champion, is sitting in third only 1:33 behind the Italian leader. Levi Leipheimer, the American leader of Astana, is but seven seconds behind Rogers and is no slouch in the discipline, either. He has already taken time trials at the Tour of California and the Vuelta a Castilla y Leon this year (both of which he won on general classification as well), and has previously won time trials at the Tour de France and Dauphine Libere and is the reigning Olympic bronze medalist in the discipline...

Defending Tour de France champion Carlos Sastre is in sixth, less than two minutes behind Di Luca. Former Giro winner Ivan Basso, also returning to the race after suspension for his involvement in Operacion Puerto, is in seventh just on the other side of the two-minute window. And, lest we forget, notorious time-trial specialist Lance Armstrong is but five minutes and change behind in sixteenth place -- don’t discount him putting on the gas to set benchmarks for Levi along the course, boosting his own stock in the process.

In short, this Giro has been a brilliant masterstroke of excitement. The only damper, really, to date was the botched criterium through Milan. The riders, protesting the poor layout of the course (and with parked cars all along the route, rapidly narrowing and widening roads, and steep corners all throughout, it was a poorly designed route for a criterium of this magnitude), rode the race at a funereal pace. Only in the final few laps did the peloton pick up speed, with Mark Cavendish taking the first of his two stage victories to date in the race.

Tomorrow will certainly shake up the general classification, though, more than any poor planning could ever dream of doing. Stay tuned next week and for supplemental coverage here at Informative Sports all throughout the next few weeks as we hit an exciting period for sports around the world...

Speaking of exciting times, we are pushing up close on the French Open, which starts at Roland Garros in Paris on Sunday. As we advanced from Australia through the early hard-court tournaments and through the clay-court season, all eyes were on Rafael Nadal. After winning his first hard-court Grand Slam in Melbourne, the possibility arose that he could take the calendar Grand Slam. He is coming to Paris with the possibility of breaking his tie with Bjorn Borg for the most consecutive titles -- he starts Roland Garros as the favorite for his fifth straight victory on its red clay.

But he proved in Madrid that he is not Superman... that he can be bested. And who better to play his foil than perennial rival Roger Federer? In a 6-4, 6-4 victory in the finals at the Madrid Masters, Federer ended Nadal’s thirty-three match winning streak and sent the Spaniard heading to his date with destiny with just the slightest twinge of doubt. But don’t expect Federer to be the one to knock Nadal off...

If anyone will do it, I imagine that it would be Novak Djokovic. While Andy Murray might’ve surpassed him in the ATP standings with a strong beginning to the season, Djokovic is coming into form at the perfect time. He has challenged Nadal in several clay-court finals already this year, and he could easily prove to be the biggest impediment to Nadal sealing the deal on his half-decade of French dominance. Djokovic comes in motivated after several other young stars have surpassed him in the hearts of the press and in the rankings, and with his twenty-second birthday coming up only tomorrow, he still has his prime years ahead rather than behind.

Still, though, the betting man has to imagine that Nadal will be taking the spoils and, like Borel with his Jockey Triple Crown , keeping himself on path to take the oft-sought but rarely-achieved calendar Grand Slam...

Because that’s what sports is all about, right? Seeking the rarified heights that few can ever dream of viewing... and all us spectators getting to tag along for the ride. So keep your vision focused and your other senses sharpened, because the action is coming in fast and furious all around us... blink and you just might miss it...

Submitted 5/21/2009

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