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Anybody who doesn’t think the line between college and pro sports is thin or gone ignores Greivis Vasquez, who is both the Maryland Terps best basketball player, and the most hated by the team’s followers.
I don’t think I’d ever heard a college player booed by home fans like Vasquez was last year. It was like Juwan Howard at MCI Center right before he was run out of town. But Howard was getting paid eight-figures a year (!) to take that abuse.
Vasquez tried to get out of College Park, but yesterday he withdrew his name from the upcoming NBA draft.
Seems NBA scouts thought less of him than the Terps fans.
Seriously, do other college stars get booed at home?
Manny Acta lives to lose again!
The Nationals manager-for-now got to watch Elijah Dukes misplay two balls hit to the outfield by consecutive Yankees batters in the seventh inning, turning two outs into two Yankees runs and a lead into a loss in New York.
The .258 winning percentage means the Nats are now on a pace to beat the ’62 Mets mark of 120 losses.
Why is Acta still around?
Well, much appreciated Cheap Seats Daily commenter Angry Al posted that Acta’s going to stay no matter how much losing goes on, because the Lerners are so cheap they don’t want to pay Acta and pay another manager.
I hadn’t thought of that. But sounds like a plan!
Biggest winner in baseball yesterday: Barry Bonds.
How the hell are the feds gonna move forward with their lame prosecution of Bonds for a couple dubious lies, now that Sammy Sosa’s been outed?
Turns out Sosa’s was among the 104 names on baseball’s not-so-secret list of positive testers from 2003.
Sosa, Rafael Palmeiro and Roger Clemens all swore before Congress and country that they never ever never ever took anything. And The Man is going to let them walk, even though there’s at least as much proof that they’re PED-ophiles as we’ve seen against Bonds? No way. (A-Rod just lied to Katie Couric. That’s fine.)
Biggest loser in baseball yesterday: Mike Lupica. The enthusiastic New York sportswriter’s book “Summer of ’98,” sanctified that season’s home run duel between Sosa and fellow chemical Popeye, Mark McGwire. “Summer” now stands alongside the Washington Post’s 2003 editorial about Colin Powell’s U.N. speech about all the WMDs in Iraq, a piece headlined “Irrefutable!,” as the most ridiculable documents ever published.
(According to a review on Amazon, “Lupica gives both McGwire and Sosa their proper due.”)
Please, Cal Ripken. Admit you used steroids! Baseball will never get past the Dead Balls Era™ until you do!
On the verge of the U.S. Open: Slate posts a video of what golf, a game where losers are allowed to blame camera clicks, would be like if basketball announcers called the action.
The real treat is hearing a few seconds of Johnny Most, the greatest play-by-play man in the history of history. And I’d forgotten how forced Dick Vitale’s calls were.
The piece was conceived by my friend Josh Levin, Slate’s sports editor and the godfather of tape-measure journalism (count the measurements!), and put together by his colleague Andy Bouve.
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