I love reading Jason Whitlock.  He often has a real-fan approach to all of his articles and says what 90% of sports writers are afraid their editors won't let them say.  He's often wrongly accused of being racists by many readers.  But often, Whitlock brings up race only to spur his own, not as a crutch to support it.  I've rarely disagreed with any of his articles; racially driven or not.

 But there is one subject that Whitlock often writes on that I believe he has all wrong.  Somewhere throughout his journalism career, Whitlock must have been wronged by the University of Notre Dame.

 Nearly every other week, Whitlock writes an article about the ludicrous nature of Charlie Weis and his contract extension.  Also in every article, Whitlock mentions that he doesn't doubt the state of ND football because they prematurely fired Tyrone Willingham or the racial undertones behind that firing but rather because of how pompous and naïve Weis is.

 But Whitlock's denials of blaming the racial relationships at Notre Dame come off as believable as the ND fan base's expectations.  While refuting a racial situation, Whitlock refers to Weis as the Great Weis Hope throughout each article.  He played down the Willingham firing at Washington by saying it in no way justifies his early dismissal from Notre Dame.  When in fact, being a bad coach at Washington should hold some kind of connection as to why he was a bad coach at Notre Dame.  It hurts me to say that Willingham's "being different" was as much a part of him getting a job at Notre Dame as him getting fired was.  Whitlock misses this argument.

 A lot is made in sports media of the race of coaches on all levels.  The truth is, most fans wouldn't mind if the Notre Dame coach was more leprechaun that white or black.  Performance is what ultimately matters.  In a recent article, Whitlock wrote about the premature acceptance of prominent positions by black coaches before they're actually ready for the job.  I couldn't agree more.  Ron Zook was just as unready to take the Florida job as Ron Prince was at Kansas State.  And both were fired for being over their heads after replacing long-term, fan favorite coaches.  However, the true number the sports media should target is the number of black assistants getting jobs and working their ways to head coaching positions.  A great number of black coaches are waiting in the wings to become phenomenal coaches including Joker Philips, Vance Bedford, and Tyrone Nix.  This is the battle for Whitlock to fight; not to battle a sinking ship at Notre Dame.

Last Friday I attended Xavier's big basketball kickoff.  My future father in-law is a Xavier graduate and my fiancé starts grad school next semester.  I went with low expectations to watch a bunch of Big East rejects who will dominate the A-10 but fold under pressure like a Tampa Ray in the W.S once March rolls around (had to get a shot in).

I did a little research on the team so I wouldn't embarrass myself in front of the future in-laws.  If we were going to a Kentucky game (Big Blue Madness tonight by the way) I'd be great.  All I really knew was BJ Raymond and the Joe Crawford's little brother just transferred over.

So I started to research the freshman first.  I learned about Brad Redford's 102 consecutive free throws.  I learned a little about the Greg Oden-type game of Kenny Frease.  Then I branched out to some YouTube highlights of Derek Brown and talked to a buddy about the defensive "genius" of CJ Anderson.

So my excitement was about a 65 on a 100 point scale.  There were about 1500 people there as most of the parking lot was full of Run Like Hell participants.  The introductions weren't ridiculous and the girl's game was...girl's basketball.  I started to get a little more excited for the dunk contest but not Kenny Walker excited.  But then the scrimmage started.

I found myself glued to the court.  I saw Crawford look like a general on a team he'd been with for 4 months.  I saw Frease look like a 20-10 guy and Justin Love look like a rebounding force.  Redford could handle the ball against CJ and BJ is more of a leader than Stanley Burrell.  And then a realization hit me like a ton of bricks...I had become a fan of Xavier.

Xavier is better than my Kentucky team.  They don't have the blue chips or the high profile coach.  They don't have any nationally televised games.  They don't play in front of a crowd like Rupp.  But they're better.  They're probably better than last year's team.

So as much as I hate bandwagon fans and buddies who start rooting for their wives favorite team, I've done it.  I'm not going to say it feels good either.  But I'm sure it will feel better once "we" get to the Final Four.

The Reds-Pirates game in mid-May is perfect.  The Marlins sweeping the Nats before the all-star break comes off flawless.  You see 90% of the time; baseball is the greatest sport going.  But when baseball is put in the forefront and on the largest of sporting stages, it always disappoints somehow.  When the majority of America is tuning in, Bud Selig looks like a money-hungry, ignorant, and grumpy man.

So put yourself in Bud's shoes...what's he thinking?

• Let's take America's team and reigning World Series champions and ship them to Japan to start the season!  Make their games at like 5 am in their home city as a reward for selling out 400 straight games.  I can't think of a better time for a team to first be introduced as world champions than while their city is sleeping.  Besides, it's cold in Boston in April.  At least in Japan they have a dome!

• Maybe we haven't had a memorable all-star game since the 70's.  So what?  We had Lasorda get hit by a bat that one year.  Remember when Chan-Ho Park took one for the team and put the ball on the tee for Ripken?  Well how about we make it to where 95% of players that won't sniff the World Series play it out to see who gets home field advantage.  Maybe we could even have Ichiro win the MVP and allow the World Series to be played in the dome!  That should cut out all these rain delays.

• I remember back in the late 90's when we had all our stars participate in the home run derby.  We exploited how far they could crush balls over and over without questioning how something could even be possible.  Then those jerks had to get caught with steroids and now the derby is like an eerie reminder of how ignorant I chose to be for 15 years.  We need America to turn on this excitement.  How about we put a bunch of guys nobody cares about in the derby and make it last 3 hours.  We'll just have them swinging for hours until we get to the last round and whoever hits it past first wins.  Do you think we can get Berman to call it?  Somebody get him an atlas too so he can read up on surrounding cities.  I can't wait to hear "He hit that one to Rabbit Hash!"  We must make Americans hate this event like Stern has the dunk contest so we can put focus back on the "game that matters."

• I'm always hearing how I can learn from Stern.  Maybe I can make my playoffs last 3 months too.  If the playoffs are the most important part of the season, and fans watch the most important games, let's start the playoffs immediately after the trading deadline.  16 teams get in and we start with a best of 5 format.  The Series will get expanded to a best of 11 formats.  We'll play the last game on Thanksgiving afternoon.  Besides, I think I heard the boys at Fox mention how they may have to blackout the Lions game this year.  We'll start the games at 7 am EST.  That's primetime in Tokyo!!

A couple of months ago, I got engaged.  The other night I was hanging out with a married buddy who said one of the best parts about being married is the feeling that there is a good chance you won't get dumped for awhile.  As feminine and sissy as this sounded, I started thinking about the last time I felt dumped.  The answer was easy...December 30, 2007.

 On this day, the Colts decided not to prepare for a Super Bowl defense, but rather prepare for what they had been doing for the previous 8 years; lose in the 2^nd round.  They played Jim Sorgi all game and lost to the Titans.  Am I mad because I'm a Colts fan and my team was overly confident and didn't feel the need to practice the 2 minute drill before the playoffs?  No.  I'm mad because my Browns would lose the tie-breaker to the Titans and miss out on the playoffs.  Luckily, football karma struck quickly as by the second weekend, both the Titans and Colts were out of the playoffs and the Colts continue to suffer for ripping off the entire city of Cleveland.

 I got the same feeling Sunday night.  I watched Matt Garza mow down Papi, Youk, CoCo, Jason Bay, and Kotsay (where was Casey?) as the Rays demolished the Sox.  Sure it stunk watching a young team full of major-league minimum salaries beating our team of aging contracts.  But the real punch in the gut came from watching one of my heroes fall so far.  Throughout the year, I watched about 85% of Sox games on Extra Innings and each one ending with me saying the same thing, "How do we get Tek out of there?"

 Jason Varitek has been my ideal ballplayer since 1998 when he really started to get some playing time.  His game calling, switch hitting, and flat-top were everything I ever love about the Sox.  He was the anti-Manny.  In 2004, when the Sox totally out paid every other team for his leadership, I was overjoyed.  Four more years of Tek was a warm security blanket to wrap up our World Series trophy in.  But like many of our childhood heroes, we never expect them to age.  Tek turned late 30's fast...almost too fast.  And after watching his last game in a Sox uniform Sunday night, I felt like I got dumped by that 1998 image.

 So now it's Tuesday morning and I'm in my college breakup routine.  I've sworn off sports for the week.  No waking up to Mike and Mike or driving home with Lance.  No PTI on the DVR or bostondirtdogs.com breaks at work.  Out of sight; out of mind.  I'm in the denial stage of a sport split.  And my only deliverance comes in the form of Derek Anderson.

To you and I, sports are a beer on Sunday afternoon, a lazy fly in July, and a Hardwood in the Spring.  Sports are choosing between the replica or authentic jersey, smelling the franks from the concession stands, and the sounds of squeaking Jordans.

To the owners, general managers, and "special advisors" its a business.  Much like the owner of your local pizza shop, if they don't sell enough tickets, have the hottest merchandise, or get the biggest television deal, their business can start to lose money and make it tough for the team and maybe league to survive (except for the WNBA...that may never die).

Very rarely do teams struggle in the 3 major sports to survive.  In the past 30 years, only 5 teams have moved or become defunct (Sonics, Nats, Grizzlies, Titans, Browns).  Risks are evident, but its nearly impossible for a team in the big 3 to struggle so badly that they have to leave.  In the case of these 5, one could say that all but the Nats were because of greedy owners (suck it Modell).

But as limited as the risk is in this fail-proof business, we fans who often take the games for what they are, are constantly reminded that sports are a business.  By the owners, bookkeepers or operational directors?  No.  By disgruntled athletes.

As sure as the sun rises in the east, a released or "wrongly" traded athlete drops the "It's a business" bomb within 8 minutes of their cleaning out the locker interview.  Was it a business when you came into camp 20 pounds overweight?  Was it a business when you caused your team the game by making 4 errors?  Was it a business when you shot 50% from the line?  Of course not.  If athletes looked at their sport every day like they were responsible for it succeeding as a business, I think they would demand more and deserve it.  They would commit more to making the business succeed.  And consequently, we'd enjoy the business so much more.