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Usually we do this post on Mondays, but everyone was outside playing yesterday, so we held it until today: The Mets remain, in a world in which a national tragedy hits later this morning and causes the season to end today, a playoff team. Though it would be complicated and probably screw up Bud Selig's fancy new playoff system. But let's back up.
Ever since falling into a last-place tie with Boston last week, the Yankees had been on a nice little run, winning the final two games of their series against Kansas City before outscoring Oakland, 17-5, in a three-game sweep over the weekend. Yes, the Royals and A's are currently nine and five games under .500, respectively, but at the very least, the Yankees were taking care of business against such teams. That winning streak is over now, though: Last night in Anaheim, the Angels beat the Yankees, 9-8, on Mark Trumbo's walk-off homer in the bottom of the ninth. Angels starter Jared Weaver left the game with an injury after throwing just twelve pitches, but Phil Hughes — who'd been pitching better of late — took a step backwards, allowing seven earned runs in five-and-a-third innings of work. Cory Wade took the loss; his third pitch of the night was hit out of the park by Trumbo.
A team like the Miami Heat, with its over-the-top superstars and perpetual championship-or-bust albatross, has always seemed particularly vulnerable to the whims of their psyche. When they're down, like after the Game Three loss to the Pacers that put them behind 2-1, they looked lost and on the brink of collapse. Now, after a 93–79 wipe-out of the Boston Celtics in Game One of the Eastern Conference Finals last night, they've won four games in a row, and they're world champs again, mocking the Celtics, dancing around, laughing, acting as if nothing were ever the matter. (They even made fun of one of those Kevin Garnett primal screams at the end of the game, which would seem like tempting some sort of vengeful deity.) Anyway, the Heat, so deflated just a week or so ago, are on top of the planet ... until their next breakdown, anyway. (This is sort of the pattern.) Meanwhile, while you were grilling this weekend, the San Antonio Spurs beat the Oklahoma City Thunder in Game One of the Western Conference Finals, their nineteenth win in a row. They danced and laughed decidedly less than the Heat did.
The Devils deserved this. They were the better team in this series — sometimes by a large margin — and they earned the right to represent the Eastern Conference in the Stanley Cup Finals. We watched this Rangers team earn the conference's top playoff seed, then fight like hell to get past the postseason's first two rounds, but they met their match in the Eastern Conference Finals. Tonight's Game 6 looked for a while like it might turn into a blowout, but it ultimately became yet another stressful game, regardless of which team you root for. And so a contest that was tied through two periods remained tied through three, as if 60 minutes of this wasn't agonizing enough, particularly if you were pulling for the team that had been pushed to the brink of elimination on Wednesday night. We suppose, from a Rangers-fan point of view, if the Devils had to win this game with a sudden-death goal, better they do it right away, rather than prolonging things for an overtime or two. But there's no painless way to lose a game like this, or a series like this.
This week began with John Tortorella kicking off another chapter in his ongoing war of words with Peter DeBoer. (DeBoer, didn't have much to say this time, called Tortorella's comments "comical.") Then during a Game 4 in which the Devils evened the series at two, Tortorella and DeBoer got into a shouting match while on their respective benches after Mike Rupp shoved Martin Brodeur following a whistle. The series didn't necessarily turn nastier two nights later at the Garden, but Game 5 was a wild one in which the Devils took a three-goal lead only to see the Rangers tie the score. But New Jersey prevailed in the third period, and tonight — with 1994 on the minds of many — the Devils will try to finish off the Rangers in Game 6. But what happened this week that didn't involve the Kings waiting around to learn their Stanley Cup Finals opponent?
Is there a Ranger whose season will be evaluated based on his performance in the playoffs more than Brad Richards? He's capable of a bigger regular season than the one he turned in — it was only the third time since 2002-03 that he failed to reach 70 points — but he also tied for fifth in the league with nine game-winning goals. All told, not an All-Star worthy campaign, but good enough to avoid any significant backlash from fans. And anyway, if one was to assign Brad Richards a grade at the end of the regular season, it would have been an "Incomplete." The Rangers went hard after Richards on the free-agent market over the summer, and the line on his résumé that reads "Conn Smythe Winner" was a big reason why. It's in the playoffs when Richards can really earn that huge contract.
So far this postseason, there have been many nights where he's been worth every penny.
Congress passed the Professional and Amateur Sports Protection Act in 1992, more or less banning sports betting in the United States. It's "more or less" because exceptions were allowed for four states: Nevada, Oregon, Delaware, and Montana. At the time, a one-year deadline was set by which other states wishing to be exempt could pass appropriate sports-betting laws. New Jersey, a state with plenty of casinos and racetracks, failed to exploit that loophole in time and has thus been subject to the federal ban ever since.
Tim Tebow had his first public practice as a New York Jet yesterday, and suffice it to say, it was well-documented. Considering all anyone saw were a few drills with no one wearing pads and no one getting tackled — and almost none of the playbook installed — one wouldn't think there'd be that much to report on. One would be wrong!
If one is going to suffer an injury that requires months of rehab, it's probably best to do it as long before the season begins as possible. Which isn't to say that participating in a full training camp isn't beneficial, but the timing of Hakeem Nicks's fractured right foot, suffered yesterday during the Giants' second organized team activity of the season, could have been worse. More specifically, Nicks fractured the fifth metatarsal of his right foot, and the early estimate is that the recovery time will be approximately twelve weeks. Twelve weeks from today, by the way, is August 17, or the day before the Giants' second preseason game. But that recovery time isn't set in stone, and when asked whether Nicks would be ready for the regular-season opener on September 5, Tom Coughlin said yesterday that "it's probably going to be close."
Remember: We know that it is irrational to continue disliking the Miami Heat so much. The team was constructed in a way that we support in theory — athletes taking control of their own future, recognizing themselves as the central assets they are — and in the same way that the Knicks are trying to build their team. (But better, of course.) LeBron James is the best player in the NBA; Dwyane Wade is a champion; Shane Battier seems like he'd be a fun guy to hang out with. But now that the Heat have clinched a trip to the Eastern Conference Finals with a 105-93 win over the Indiana Pacers last night, we find ourselves all the more rigid in our illogical hate. The Heat are just supposed to be hated, particularly when they're this good, when Wade (who scored 41 points last night) and James are peaking together, finally. They'll play the winner of the Celtics-76ers Game 7, a.k.a., our new favorite team in the NBA. It's hard to see how anyone stops them from reaching the NBA Finals again, though. Probably time to preorder your Spurs jersey; it should be here just in time for Game 1. [Sighs.]
Alex Rodriguez
Derek Jeter
Johan Santana
David Wright
Eli Manning
Mark Sanchez
Mariano Rivera
jose Reyes
Sean Avery
Donnie Walsh
