By David Scott
BSMW Columnist

Black Rubber (!!!)
Wow! I do believe I enjoyed a Game 6 of the NHL playoffs more than a Game 7 in the NBA tourney. Thus, last night was a monumental Scott’s Shots Experience, which is now being followed by a monumental Scott’s Shots Lead Hockey item. . . What an effort by the Philly Puck Phreaks to all dress like the same orange seat from the old Springfield (Mass.) Civic Center - well, that’s what it looked like to me. . . So Tampa has hockey and Calgary is still part of Canada? The things you learn through sports. . . Hockey? Okay. But just, for the rest of the playoffs. John Buccigross? No. Does not compute. Ever. . . The loud-mouth behind me at Maxie’s in Canton yesterday wants to know if Neumie’s gonna do NHL coverage for NBC’s mercy-salvage of the severely damaged (network and non-) hockey package? I want to know why he has to talk so loud as I’m trying to enjoy my tuna melt and iced tea with The Shirl and The Baze. It’s like these talk radio devotees need to shout at ALL times, not just on the Whiner Line. Go read a book, would you?. . . Mmmmmm - get the feeling I like to eat in relative peace?. . . So how about it, Neumie? A little hockey and horses for the Olympic network?

Rawhide
It got so bad last night in the 4th inning that Vicki Zambrano walked Percy the Dog, followed by a Raymond the Mascot base-on-balls. Christopher Reeve would have walked in the damn inning if he’d gotten the AB. . . After the eighth Zam-walk RemDog simply stated, “This is just absolutely horrible baseball.”. . . Not to get all Dewey Decimal on you, but my most recent Dopplertracking of local, bestseller, non-fiction, paperbacks finds none other than “Watching Baseball,” by Jerry Remy at the No. 1 slot. Placing the RemDog ahead, it should be noted, of Hillary Rodham Clinton’s “Living History” (No. 4) and David Halberstam’s “The Teammates” (No. 7). I’m still waiting for my complimentary, review copy of ‘WB,’ but I’m seriously considering starting one of those Oprah-like book clubs and having RemDog’s opus be our inaugural read. Can ‘Lil Wally be in the club with us?. . . Did you hear the tone of RemDog’s voice change when the subject of BK Kim was broached by Don O? I think it echoed how most of Ted’s Nation feels about the Double Broiler Spoiler. . . NESN does an awful knock-off of Stat Boy from PTI (and/or Smitty from “Letterman,” ) with yet-to-be-kissed Chuck the Production Assistant on a Ladder reading fan mail to TC and Tewksie. Three words: Not. Gonna. Work. . . Speaking of PTI, the absence of Kornheiser earlier this week caused a call to the bullpen for Steven Angry Smith. The title should have been altered accordingly to PTA, “Pardon the Angriness”. Having SAS fill-in might mean Bob Ryan is PTI guy non grata, or maybe he’s still under double-secret probation for the Vanderbilt voicing. . .Hey, I’m all for historic nights in baseball, just like Randy Johnson’s perfect game. But when it results in the large mug of John Kruk being shown simultaneously on ESPN and the Deuce, on different sets - well, let’s just say it gets a little creepy.

Trending
At what point do you suppose the Yellow Boxers are going to realize the Golden Rule of (New York) Tabloid Journalism?: The back page needs to match the front page for audacity and boldness. Otherwise, the formula for driving newsstand sales is being applied half-heartedly. Here’s what I mean: The past two days’ Heraldos have featured the following headlines and/or trashy front page gimmicks – “TOLL BOOBS,” “LOSER KNOCKS HUB” (accompanied by the come-hither-looking babe from Trump’s Romp), “POOCH PRISON PUSHED,” “CANDY CIGS LURE TEENS – Butt foes fume,” and “DOWN TO TWO AFTER ‘IDOL’ ALOHA” (accompanied by the two hugging, smiling, singing, Fox faux-celebs).
Never mind that there’s an ugly war raging and a combustible campaign revving – the Patrick Purcellians (not to be confused with George Orwellians) are steering a new course to covers covered with gossip-mongering, sensationalistic eye-grabbers, ala the New York tabs.
Problem is, the back page (there is relevance to Sports, see?) has been blander than a Kerry quote. On Wednesday they served up “Wake quiets Rays” for the flip-side’s main headline and yesterday we got the incongruent “Road show.” Let me guess, today will be “Ray Walking.” Dull, dull and dull.
It’s almost like picking up Maxim only to find the New Yorker saddle-stitched inside. Catch up, Sports Desk! The rest of the Heraldo has slowly crept into the gutter – a re-vamped, evolving Track Gals, for instance. It doesn’t make business sense, to have the front door say “Deadwood” Brothel while the back door says KinderCare.
You must embrace your new smuttiness. Go after A-Rod. Smear Jeter. Grill the Tuna. Otherwise, you’re holding back the rest of the pages from being true and trashy and tabloid.
The strategy up front has been clear for some time now, but it will never be fully achieved without some shake-up on the backside.

A Belmont Town Road Show
We’re packing up the Scott’s Shots’ Winnebago once again and heading north from Hull to the deep, lush woods of beautiful Belmont. Maybe I should bring some coyotes for the Coyote Exchange program? Truth is, it seems there’s a long-running sports show on Belmont Community TV that has managed some 200-plus shows over the last decade with a bevy of distinguished guests. Folks, I’ve never lasted 200-plus days at a single one of my myriad jobs, so to me, this is visit is like Dunkin Donuts – worth the trip. Any Scott’s Shots Belmont-based loyalists (and non-loyalists alike) are welcome to tune in on Wednesday evening at 8 p.m. LIVE! as I sit in the very seat once occupied by Bob Lobel and Frank Mallicoat. I won’t let you down, Lobie and Malli – we’ll be fraternity brothers. Maybe we can get a secret hand-shake. . . ACT NOW! For a limited time, copies of the BCTV show will be available for destruction immediately following the escapade. Be sure to tune in next week for a full re-cap. . . And you thought the Sean McDonough piece was ALL access. I might be running a camera for this one! . . . Scott’s Shots – bringing YOU wherever THEY’LL let ME go!

More TV news! Oh Boy!
This observation has nothing to do with a potential, forthcoming appearance on CN8 - it’s just something I bumped into and need to make sure I keep an eye on. Which means you should as well - ‘cuz I’ll probably forget. John Carchedi, the quirky, little funny man on CN8, could very well be the best-kept secret in the New England Market. He’s smooth, self-deprecating and he picks his spots well. He’s surely late-shift, ESPNEWS material at this point; and he’s quickly approaching FOX Sports regional level. But what do I know? I still think CN8 is some dirty nursery rhyme: See Nate Date, See Nate Mate, See Nate’s Mate be Late. . .

Hoops
How damn predictable is the Mike Montgomery-to-the-NBA reaction from the national sports Zombienists? Every story will mention the perceived failures of PJ Carlesimo, Rick Pitino or John Calipari. You know what? I was around the Nets a little bit when Calipari was there and he did what very few were able to do before him: make the playoffs AND, more impressively, change the attitude in The Swamp. I don’t think it’s a stretch to say that the foundation for this Eastern Conference power of Lawrence Frank’s was, in some part, begun with Calipari (hello, Kerry Kittles). Pitino, if you must know, did fit in the NBA – at least for a while there in New York. PJ, too, had his run. The fact is, hiring the right coach at the right time is at best, a crap shoot in today’s NBA. The premise that college guys “fail” is more myth than matter, but it’s always material for the lazy scribes who need an “easy column.” I say, good for Monty – he was great at the college level and he might be back someday. But today, at this juncture, he’s got the itch. Let him scratch it and wish him luck. . . I actually watched some of the WNBA Rookie reality series, hosted by (surprise!!!!) Rebecca Lobo and featuring Diana Taurasi and Alana Beard. I will never admit such things in public, however. . . Had the pleasurable opportunity to chat with Syracuse University assistant coach, Mike Hopkins, and of the many gems the loquacious “Hop” offered, his most intriguing was that former Orange guard Jason Hart emerged enough with San Antonio this season, to be high upon the expansion Bobcats’ Wish List. Hart, like Hop, is an LA kid with an orange leather heart and a nose for the ball. Let’s be sure and remember Hip-Hop when the jobs begin opening next March – Boeheim’s tree needs some more sturdy branches in addition to Pitino and PC’s TimmyWelsh. How do you like dem apples, Kevin McNamara?

Between the Lines of Pages
It only took five days, but I finally managed to get through last Sunday’s Neil Swidey Globe magazine “exclusive,” “Being Nomar.” The first response, and this is usually the case ever since Charlie Pierce joined the staff, is “Why didn’t Pierce get the call on this one?” Getting past my Pierce preference, the second question is: Why, in lieu of Pierce, did Neil Swidey write it? You can’t approach Nomar with a traditional magazine-piece formula – not if you want to do it best. For those of you that missed it, here – in a predictable, yet earnest nutshell – is how the mediocre story went: Open with Newbury Street restaurant scene to justify expenses at Sonsie; paint picture the way almost every GQ, Vanity Fair or Esquire writer thinks is mandatory when the author happens to dine with the subject; chronological breakdown of how we came to this point in the life of Nomar; a different scene set-up, this one in Arizona at little brother, Michael’s spring training game, to justify the expense account that must have included: “Popcorn for the Garciapparra family”; supply enough fluff to make the reader flip through 11 pages of myriad 1/8 page ads for everything from stairlifts (no fewer than three) to (oh my!) Nomar’s baseball camps to bras for sizes 32 to 56 (I’ll take two); End story; disappoint readers.

Between the Lines of (Internet) Pages
The un-semi-retirement-from-ESPN for the Sports Guy started off on a particularly bad note with the attempt to have a running one-day blog with Ralph Wiley. As one witty observer opined at the sometimes amusing www.sportsjournalists.com: “Neither ever met a long sentence they didn’t like.” For starters, the text-a-text was about the NBA (but quickly dissolved into ‘Sopranos’ Interp. 101’) and truthfully, for hoops, I only can get passionate about the college playoffs. Still, I tried to get through the tit-for-tat at various points during the day and the one thing that kept coming back to me was: Don’t all the studies say we (as in the Joe ESPN Surfer) want less words? Aren’t we the ADD Generation of Sports Fan? And lastly, just how much Ralph Wiley do they really think anyone would want to read?. . . On Tuesday, SI.com’s Stewart Mandel had what can only be termed as “This Week’s Sign That the Apocalypse Has Assuredly Struck the Once-Proud SI Brand.” Mandel somehow convinced his editors (producers? Data entry personnel running the site?) that it would be a good idea to interview some bitchy chick who failed (yes, failed) to become The Apprentice, but HALLEJULAH!!! this hottie was a true life, 24-year-old, devoted Miami Hurricanes fan. With breasts even!
Now, beyond the small problem I had because I didn’t watch the Trump trash enough to even know who Katrina the Boston Hater was, the bigger problem remained: Why do I care about her opinions on anything, much less sports. Much, much less Miami football? Or better yet, how’d Howie Mandel even get a seat in the Time & Life Building? Mandel wrote: “Katrina . . . known for her flirty negotiating skills (on the Apprentice) and provocative attire. . . Katrina is a lifelong ‘Canes diehard, UM grad and football. . .Last month she even covered the NFL Draft for ESPN’s Cold Pizza.”
Whoa! Draft coverage for Cold Pizza? Someone call NFL Films We need to preserve those tapes! The not-ready-for-SI tomfoolery went on for 860 +/- words and included this qualifier in order to (we guess) ensure Katrina’s credentials (followed by mindless Q&A drivel): “I met Katrina at a recent appearance in New York and she eagerly agreed to be interviewed, giving me her cell number — which, of course, I showed off to every male acquaintance I know.” Wow! That SI power sure is mighty these days, eh? There’s no way Seth Davis can handle all that power.
Or how about some more Mandel-bombs that would have had Mark Mulvoy in conniptions: “SI.com: If Trump had Larry Coker’s job last season, would he have fired Brock Berlin as quarterback?
“Katrina: Hey, Brock’s a friend of mine, poor thing. . . Brock’s a really nice guy, he’s really sweet. He reminds me of Ryan Sutter from The Bachelor. In fact, a lot of people called Brock “Ryan” when that show was on.
“SI.com: Speaking of which, they’ve got a Gator, Jesse Palmer, as the Bachelor right now. Which ‘Cane would you cast as the Bachelor?
“Katrina: Jesse’s a sweetie. It seems like I run into him at every event I attend. I think Brock would be a great Bachelor.” There you have it - a couple of sweeties, a Bachelor suggestion and the end of the SI tradition as we knew it. Only Gary Smith can save the hallowed title now. . . One Scott Shot devotee wanted to be sure to mention that Don Skwar is now somewhat responsible for what the Sports Guy contributes to ESPN World. And you gotta think the Sports Guy has more juice in Bristol than the man who never realized he should have signed the local kid to a lifetime deal with the Green Boxes. Ha, ha, ha, we say.

Pokey for VP
It’s enough that the Green Boxes pollute our sports page with the light-hitting Danny Boy and forced gender-equity pieces. Now, this past Tuesday in a “National Perspective” column on A3, Peter S. Canellos has the nerve to strongly suggest Wesley K. (once aka “Wes”) Clark be John Kerry’s running mate. Did this Canellos Cannoli-brain not get the memo about TEAMMATE Pokey Reese having SECURED THE SECOND SPOT ON KERRY’S TICKET? Well, here it is: The Globe supports the Pokester – we’ve already got our first slogan: “No. 3 on Your Scorecard, No. 2 on Our Ticket.” So pay attention, Canelloser – It’s Pokey Time. Have Wes call our people about something in Defense. . . And Babbling Bobby Lobel? Enough with the Pokemon movie intro for Reese’s highlights – that’s not the image we’re looking to project. He’s a capable adult. . . with magical baseball and political powers. And didn’t I ask nicely for no more Johnny Damon, Superstar ensembles?

Rants and Raves
I’ll give “Listen Up,” the Tony Kornheiser-inspired Fall sitcom, one chance and that’s it. I’m already bitter that Theo Huxtable is playing the part of Wilbon (should have been Mr. T), but Jason Alexander as Korn could have several redeeming values. . . Maxim puts the way, way, way, overdone Jessica Simpson on its June cover and there’s no question about who won the battle of cleavage and skin: Simpson is more covered up than an albino baby at the beach. I’ve seen more skin in the KFC commercials. Some background on how these photo shoots usually go: Nine out of 10 times, the laddie mags lure their photo subjects into compromising poses with seductive looks and then photo shop whatever else they need. Overwhelmingly, the mags win the battle and wind up with a tasteless cover that would make Hugh Hefner blush. This Simpson cover, however, would have been too boring for Good Housekeeping. Just another reason why our guy, Scott Gramling at FHM, is the best editor in the category. . . Just finished Robert Parker’s ‘Spenser’ series installment of “Bad Business.” An average offering with none of the vintage cooking, fighting or pensing that made Spenser a 1980s treasure. Still, to have a woman like Susan and a dog like, Pearl II, says a lot about the author and the character. Mostly it just says, it sure as heck ain’t me. . .Now THAT’S niche joke-making – “Spenser for Hire” books? Amazing. I’m exhausted from being so damn diverse. How does Norman Chad do it week in and week out?. . .And yet another $1.25 he owes me. I’m up to like $10.85 or something. Me math no so good. . . American Splendor is worth the DVD rental, if only for the dim-witted co-worker of Harvey Pekar, Toby Radloff. . . How’s this for event preview over-hype: WB56 ran a 30-minute survival guide to the DNC last night. Now, there’s the panic-journalism this town needs more of!. . . Enjoy the weekend.

David Scott writes from a seaside shanty on the shores of Hull and can be reached at david@bostonsportsmedia.com

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