This logo is yawn-derful

I was going to begin this post by joking that the NBA’s D League had unveiled the name and logo for a new team. But after looking at the logo designs for D League teams (that’s D as in development—the D League is to the NBA what minor league baseball is to the MLB), I’ve decided that’s an inaccurate and harsh comparison.

Those D League logos are much better than this.


This, of course, is the new look for the Oklahoma City Thunder (né Seattle SuperSonics) of the NBA. It's too bad, because nothing about this logo says "thunder" to me. It does say "circa 1985" though.

Anyone wanna wager on the NBA team with the least fan apparel revenue this season?

I guess a more sports-appropriate theme song is the only thing the team (and fans) can hope for at this point. (I never was a fan of J.J. Fad.)


Courtesy of the Denver Egotist.

Shout Out: NFL schedule-makers

One of the many difficult parts of being a Browns fan (in addition to witnessing the blown leads, questionable drafts and general bad luck) is not being able to see them play on TV.*

But it looks like the exciting season the team put up in 2007 has paid off. Today, the NFL unveiled its complete schedule for the upcoming season, and the Browns are slated to play on national television five times, including three games on Monday Night Football (and one on the NFL Network, which is kinda like not being on TV at all).

Thanks, schedule-makers. (Though I’m sure I’ll be cursing you later for allowing me to watch what are sure to be painful exhibitions for one reason or another.)


* Unless you wander down to the local Browns-affiliate sports bar to commiserate with other Browns Backers.

What Not To Wear, MLB edition

I was glad to hear the Kansas City Royals were bringing back the powder blue uniforms this season. Then I caught sight of them on SportsCenter last night. What the?

Hey guys, those are supposed to be an alternative to road grays. You don’t wear them at home.

Ditch those white pants and try again.

Like this.

(Side note to the San Diego Padres: That khaki option you’ve been wearing for years blows, as does the camouflage.)

You've got your Daft Punk in my Notre Dame!*

Who says music and sports don’t go together? Not the kind folks over at the Pasta Primavera blog, apparently. On the contrary, they’ve taken the excitement of the NCAA Men’s Basketball Tournament and crossed it with their love of music. The result is an exciting bracket of 64 entrants where each Tourney team is paired with a musical artist of “equal caliber.”


I love the idea behind matching an artist with the team that most represents them, and vice versa. The choice of Spoon/Texas is probably a happy accident as much as anything, but it’s a great pairing. Some seem a little questionable (Cat Power is a 13 seed?), but I’m letting it go.

Also awesome: They’ve posted an mp3 for every artist. (Don’t forget to support the ones you love by buying their stuff.)

Check the first post here, with other regions covered in subsequent posts.

Man, that !!! win over Andrew Bird in OT this morning was awesome.


* Yes, that’s another candy reference.

Clemens smelling like a Rose?

Apologies in advance for consecutive posts about sports, but at least this one’s topical*.

I’ve been casually following the news on Roger Clemens and his testimony in front of Congress this week. It’s an ugly situation that’s boiled down to he said/he said. Former trainer Brian McNamee says he injected Clemens with HGH and steroids. Clemens says it was vitamin B-12 (and something called lidocaine). Both men are standing firm.

The likelihood that there’s no physical evidence to corroborate either side means there’s probably no resolution in sight. Which got me thinking. Is Roger Clemens the next Pete Rose?

For years Rose vehemently denied accusations of gambling on baseball. The seriousness of the situation kept Charlie Hustle out of the Hall of Fame (even though he finally fessed up in 2004).

It’s starting to look like Rose blazed the trail Clemens is on.

(It should come as no surprise that I’m not the first person to draw this connection. In fact, I’d be disappointed with today's sportswriters if they hadn’t already written about it.)


* Like the Cream. Or is it the Clear?

Don’t sweat the small stuff, Plain Dealer

The NFL held its annual Pro Bowl this past Sunday, a game that means nothing, really. At most it’s a ceremony to acknowledge the players who had exceptional seasons. At worst it’s a sloppy scrimmage (especially when you consider the four or so days the “teams” have to learn their plays and each other). It might as well be a flag football game.

Given the above, hometown fans and media should respond accordingly. Namely, watch it only if you’ve got absolutely nothing else to do, and place no meaning on anything that transpires.

With that in mind, I was surprised to see the negative reportage in the Cleveland Plain Dealer two days ago.

Browns quarterback Derek Anderson (left) commanded the AFC squad for most of the second half. He had a bad game, but judging by Tony Grossi’s column you’d think this was reason enough to cut him in the off-season.

Read Mary Kay Cabot’s column Browns lack Hawaiian punch, and you might wonder whether the six Browns Pro Bowlers had played poorly enough to embarrass the city.

These two writers need to get a grip. Can’t we just enjoy the fact that six Browns went to the Pro Bowl? Six! Prior to this season Jamir Miller was the only expansion-era Brown to win a trip to Honolulu. That’s one player in nine seasons, people!

While it was disappointing to see the Browns miss the playoffs (though we Browns fans knew it was coming), I was amazed they finished with a 10-6 record. Prior to this year, they’d won 10 or more games only five times since 1978, when the NFL went to a 16-game season. And they’d had just one winning season since rejoining the league in 1999.

One year ago these writers would surely have agreed that just having a winning season would be great. Now, having gotten a small taste of sweet success, Cleveland’s sportswriters are ready to throw out the baby with the bathwater.

Based largely on how guys performed in what should be a game of two-hand touch with a five-alligator rush.