Michael Vick on the Eagles?

Yes, it's true. Michael Vick has been signed to a two-year contract by my beloved Philadelphia Eagles. Hmmm.

I'm not really sure what to think about this. If Vick hadn't served two years in prison for killing dogs, I'd be extremely angry about it, but he did. He might be a scumbag, but he has paid a lot more than a lot of supremely talented scumbags have. I can't imagine he'll do anything heinous in his time as an Eagle, because he can't be that stupid, can he?

The Eagles seem like a decent fit for him, structure-wise. They, like the Patriots, don't tolerate idiots, so Vick going to Philly makes more sense for him than signing with some outlaw organization like the Raiders. I think everyone on the team will help keep him in line, but I could be just hopeful more than anything.

I don't know how much protesting there will be of the Eagles. I don't feel any sympathy for Vick, but he did spend a good amount of time in prison and he's apparently deep in debt, so what else do you want? Maybe he shouldn't get another chance to play in the NFL and he should go earn an honest living somewhere, but that's for Roger Goodell to decide. If he says Vick's eligible, that's that.

Go Eagles!

What I've been reading

Last Team Standing: How the Steelers and the Eagles - "The Steagles" - Saved Pro Football During World War II by Matthew Algeo. 270 pages, 2006, Da Capo Press.

I've mentioned before how keen I've become recently on the early (pre-1960) days of the NFL (and football in general), and this is the second book I've read recently about that time (here's the other one). This is also the second one I've read in which the author claims that his topic "saved" pro football. Fleming has a stronger case. In fact, I'm not sure if Algeo even has a case.

That doesn't mean this isn't a fascinating book. This is a rather nice social history of America during World War II, with some football thrown in to make it a "sports" book. The social aspects of the book, especially when compared to the state of our society today, is what makes the book compelling. The football parts of exciting, but somewhat anticlimactic. It's interesting how Algeo tries to make them more exciting than they are. But that's okay.

The book is about the "Steagles," as the title indicates. In 1943, the National Football League was in trouble. In those early days, franchises folded with stunning regularity, and scheduling games was extremely messy. A decade earlier, the NFL had finally gotten around to having a championship game, but there was still a perception that pro football was bush league. This was emphasized when World War II broke out. President Roosevelt sent a "Green Light Letter" to Kennesaw Mountain Landis, the baseball commissioner (Algeo calls him "rigid and humorless," which is probably the nicest description anyone can use for Landis), imploring him to keep baseball open through the duration of the war. Roosevelt, who was a football fan, didn't mention pro football or send a letter to Elmer Layden, the NFL commissioner. Pro football just didn't matter. But Layden and the owners assumed that Roosevelt's stamp of approval for baseball meant that football should continue, as well. What they didn't count on was that by 1943, the second war season, they would run out of players. Yes, something that we can barely imagine was threatening to shut down the National Football League. The Eagles were in a better position than the Steelers, who had six players under contract, but neither team was in a good position. Add that to the fact that both teams were pretty awful, and there was a good chance one or neither would play football in 1943. But the owners (Bert Bell, who had owned the Eagles, was at that point the co-owner of the Steelers, a complicated situation Algeo goes over quite well) came up with a solution: merge the team. The team would play two games in Pittsburgh and four games in Philadelphia, and they would be coached by two men: Earle "Greasy" Neale and Walt Kiesling, who had coached the Eagles and Steelers, respectively, the year before.

If this situation sounds untenable, well, it almost was. Neale and Kiesling hated each other, while Lex Thompson, the Eagles' owner, would only allow the team to be called the "Eagles." The team wore Philadelphia colors, and all of this naturally led the Pittsburgh contingent to feel like they were second-class citizens. However, somehow the team came together and finished with a winning record of 5-4-1 - the first winning record in Philadelphia history and only the second in Pittsburgh. Until the very end of the season, they were in contention to play in the Championship Game. On 7 November 1943 they tied the Washington Redskins, led by Sammy Baugh, ending Washington's 13-game winning streak. They went one further on 28 November, thumping the Redskins 27-14, the team's first loss in over a year. But the Steagles couldn't beat the pathetic Brooklyn Dodgers (football teams were often named after the city's baseball team, an indication of the NFL's second-class status) a week after their tie of the Redskins, and they lost to the Packers a week after their glorious victory over Washington, which put the final nail in the coffin. Still, they had a successful season, which was pretty shocking.

The football side of the book is interesting, although because the Steagles turned out to be a mediocre team, it's not as fascinating as it could have been. Sure, the book would have been better if Phil-Pitt ended up winning their division or even the NFL Championship, but the cards were too stacked against them. Algeo doesn't really make a very good case that the merger saved pro football - the stronger teams, such as the Redskins, Giants, and Bears, weren't hurt too much by the war and the fact that the Cleveland Rams folded for the year didn't destroy the NFL - but that doesn't really matter. Where the book really shines is as social history. Algeo focuses on a few core players on the Steagles - Ted Doyle, Al Wistert, Bill Hewitt, Jack Hinkle, Roy Zimmerman - to tell the story of football players and America during the war. These men were 4-F, so they were looked down upon by able-bodied men who went off to war. Many of them were scorned as well for the injuries that made them 4-F - Hewitt had a perforated eardrum, for instance. Many who went to war wondered why people could play football but not fight in a war, but Algeo makes the point that the Army itself said that someone with a perforated eardrum could not serve, and it wasn't Hewitt's fault. The players were often deeply ashamed about not being able to serve their country, and they played harder because of it. Algeo also reminds us that these men were making very little money playing football, so they worked jobs during the week. The owners and coaches of the team got the men into "essential" jobs - one of them worked on the Manhattan Project - so that they contributed to the war effort even if they didn't fight.

Algeo also makes an interesting point about the current war, although I'm sure he didn't mean it. Reading about the "war at home" during World War II reminded me, again, why I'm so opposed to our current shenanigans. I'd probably be opposed to the Iraq war no matter what, but the fact that our president didn't try to get us all behind the war is ridiculous. In this book, we read about all the things that were going on in the country and how the government tried to make sure everyone felt like they were contributing. It didn't work completely, but it was still a lot better than what we have now. As you read this book, you can't help but wonder what the state of the country would be like if Bush had asked Americans to make more sacrifices to help the soldiers. From interviews with the players, we get the sense that life was hard, but they were constantly reminded how much harder it was for the people fighting the war. It's a fascinating portrait of a country that was united far more than it was now, not because everyone was naturally more patriotic, but because the government actively encouraged (not ordered) the citizens to become involved. We're not involved in this war unless we know someone fighting, and that's Bush's fault. And, I believe, it's a reason everyone is sick of it.

But this shouldn't be a screed about our current situation. Algeo's book is a very interesting look at sports and its relationship to the American public, as well as telling the story of one of the odder episodes in professional football history. If it doesn't quite live up to the title, it's still a very interesting read. Unless you don't like American culture. Is that you? Huh? I bet you like rugby, don't you, you Commie!

The "It" Factor

I've been watching the clusterfuck that the Suns-Spurs series has become (unless, of course, you're a San Antonio fan) and it's driving me crazy. I turned off Game 2 when the Spurs (or, as a local sports talk radio host calls them, the "Sterns") went ahead 67-63, and I was glad I did, as the deficit got worse before it got a tiny bit better. As I watched the first two games and remembered last year's clusterfuck, I wondered why the Suns, who are very talented, can't beat the frickin' Spurs. I absolutely hate the Spurs, because they cheat and get away with it, they whine to the refs after every call against them and it works, and they are dull. I used to like watching the NBA, until Detroit turned the game into a heavyweight fight in the late 1980s and then everyone started playing like thugs. A few teams have tried to get back to good basketball, and Phoenix is just the latest of those. Yet they can't beat the Spurs.

I don't know why. There's no rational explanation for it. Amaré Stoudemire, who could be the best power forward in the game, cannot be guarded. Seriously. The Spurs certainly can't guard him. If you ever get a chance to see Stoudemire, check it out, because he's amazing to watch. There's almost nothing he can't do offensively - he can even shoot from the outside and make free throws at an 80% clip. But he doesn't make any effort defensively. He could easily be half as good defensively as he is offensively, and that would be amazing. But he isn't. He doesn't make the effort. That's coaching. But it's not just that. When the Spurs need a big shot, Tim Duncan makes a three-pointer to tie Game 1. A freakin' three-pointer! When the Spurs need a defensive stop, they get it. When the Spurs go on a run, Mike D'Antoni, who is a very good offensive coach, doesn't send in one of his scrubs to foul Tony Parker hard. I'm not saying he should be dirty, but Tony Parker is getting lay-up after lay-up, and nobody wants to step in and stop him. And D'Antoni doesn't seem to want to send in somebody from his bench to simply knock Parker down a few times. Because D'Antoni doesn't use his bench. It's simply astonishing that, after last year when Stoudemire and Boris Diaw were suspended for a game against San Antonio and the Suns almost won the game before running out of gas because, yes, they have no depth, D'Antoni didn't think that this year it might be smart to give his bench some work. But he didn't, and now the Suns are down 0-2.

This isn't really about the Suns, however. Well, it sort of is, but it's more about what makes a team a champion. It's something completely intangible. It's not exactly luck, although that's a part of it. It's not exactly hard work, either, although that's a big part of it. It's a weird combination of those two things and other things, and some very good teams in the past simply haven't had it. Unfortunately, many of the teams I have liked don't have it. Mainly because they play in Philadelphia.

The last team I have rooted for that had the combination of extraordinary talent and whatever extra you need to win a championship was ... the 1983 Philadelphia 76ers. Yeah, that's pretty sad. They're the last professional team from Philly to win a major championship (Villanova won the NCAA Tournament in 1985, and the Philadelphia Stars, the USFL team, won in 1984), and they had it. The Sixers of the late 1970s were very talented, but they kept losing in the Finals. In 1977 they won the first two games before losing four in a row to Portland. In 1980 a freakin' rookie point guard, some dude named Earvin Johnson, played center in the deciding game and lit them up as the Lakers beat them. But the talent was there. But they didn't have it. Then they got Moses Malone. Malone gave them what they were lacking: someone who wouldn't take shit from other teams. In the 1983 playoffs, the went 12-1, sweeping the Lakers in the Finals. What a glorious playoff run.

Toughness isn't it, though, or at least not all of it. For the Sixers, it was. For the Suns, it might be, and that's why they added Shaquille O'Neal. But he's not as tough as he used to be, and even when he's playing tough, they're still lacking something. Anyway, since then, I have fallen for teams that simply didn't have an intangible to get that ring. The Eagles of the late 1980s/early 1990s were ferocious on defense and had the amazing Randall Cunningham at quarterback. Yet they couldn't get over the hump. In 1991 Cunningham got injured in the first game of the season. The defense was one of the few that finished first against the run and against the pass, but without Cunningham, they didn't make the playoffs (despite finishing 10-6). Two years later Cunningham got hurt again and they missed the playoffs. Recently, of course, the Eagles have been very good, but they haven't won the Super Bowl. They were clearly the better team in 2002 and 2003, but they lost the NFC Championship Game at home. In 2004, they finally made it to the Super Bowl, but they lost to a team that clearly has it, the New England Cheaters ("it" in this case being high-tech espionage). Now, the window for Donovan McNabb appears to have closed. I hope not.

Meanwhile, the Phillies haven't had it for years. Even in 1993, when they won the pennant, it was clear they were complete underdogs, and their loss in the World Series, while extremely painful (the 15-14 loss when the Phillies had a 14-9 lead late; the last Mitch Williams pitch), was not as horrifying as some of the Eagles' losses, because I didn't expect much. They had it in 1980, the year they won their only World Series. But that was a long time ago.

The 76ers had it in 2001, when Larry Brown coached 'em up and Allen Iverson won the MVP, but they were clearly not as talented as Los Angeles, and Iverson could only will them to a win in the first game of the Finals before they lost four straight. But then there are the other basketball teams I've enjoyed. When I lived in Portland, I followed the Trail Blazers. Portland in the late 1990s had a very good team. In 2000, they led the Lakers in Los Angeles by 15 points in the fourth quarter, but let it go. They just didn't have it. And now I'm in Phoenix, where they Suns obviously don't have it. Another Phoenix team, the Diamondbacks, definitely had it in 2001, when they ended the Yankees' dynasty. They had plenty of talent, but when Randy Johnson came out of the bullpen in Game 7 that year, you just knew they were going to win, even though they were losing and had to face Mariano Rivera. Johnson and Schilling were just that good that year.

It's really annoying, because I've never been a bandwagon jumper. I like the teams I grew up with. I liked the Trail Blazers because I lived in Portland, and I like the Suns because I live here, and I also love the style they play. So I can't just say "Well, I'm a Spurs fan," and then rejoice when they win. It just wouldn't work. I'm a Philadelphia fan until I die, which means I'll probably be stuck with teams that suck or are good enough to make the playoffs and possibly play for a championship, but never get over the hump. It's just like Philadelphia itself - it doesn't have it anymore, and that's just too bad.

So what do you do when you don't have it? Well, owners and general managers don't like to hear this, but you have to blow things up. My father is frustrated with Andy Reid because he just doesn't seem to be a championship coach. He's a very good coach, don't get me wrong, but he just doesn't seem to be able to make that crucial adjustment that allows his team to go further. I was hoping the Eagles would keep McNabb and get rid of Reid after last season, but it looks like they're keeping both. With regard to the Suns, I think Steve Kerr, the GM, needs to have a chat with Mike D'Antoni this summer. He needs to tell him that they'll have Shaq for the full season next year, but Steve Nash is getting old and their window is closing (if it hasn't already closed). He also needs to tell him that there's a reason they have 13 players on the roster, and D'Antoni needs to play them. D. J. Strawberry (Darryl's kid) is a rookie this year, and although he's very raw, especially on offense, he's very long and plays defense really hard. Why can't he get a few minutes in this playoff series to see if he could slow Manu Ginobili down? He doesn't need to score, after all. He just needs to play defense. But he rarely played during the season, so D'Antoni doesn't trust him. Kerr needs to step in, because D'Antoni is never going to change unless he's forced to. I don't know if it will work, but it couldn't hurt. It would keep Nash and O'Neal fresh, at least.

I don't think it will work, however. Most of time, when you realize the team just doesn't have it, they need to go through a rebuilding phase. The Lakers had it early in the century, but Kobe destroyed it. Ironically, Kobe has it, but the talent around him wasn't very good for a few years. Now they have talent, and they look like a championship team. The Eagles are still a decent team, but they need a shake-up, and I think it's only going to come if they get rid of Reid. The Suns might need to ditch D'Antoni. It's unfortunate, but that's the way it is.

The Suns can still win this series. They need some luck, some calls to go their way, and the Spurs to screw up just a little bit. They're close, but they don't have it. Unless the Spurs give it up, they're done. And the NBA will once again be a little more boring. Stupid Spurs!!!!!!

Top Ten Day: My favorite sports moments

Today is the tenth anniversary of one of the most shocking upsets in college football history. Can you figure out what it is? If you live east of the Mississippi, probably not. And that's a shame. I'll reveal the answer in the post!

Because of the anniversary, it got me thinking of my next Top Ten post. I decided to do one on my favorite moments in sports. This is difficult, because I really like sports. I decided to limit it to events I had actually seen - that doesn't mean in person, as I rarely go to sporting events, especially ones that imprint on my memory. These are events I had watched on television (or witnessed in person, don't get me wrong, but I couldn't limit it to that), so the "Miracle on Ice" doesn't make it, because I didn't watch it (and if you did, you're a liar, because it wasn't shown live - I suppose you could have watched the tape-delayed showing, but you could have conceivably already known the results). Sorry, USA Olympic Hockey Team - you don't make the cut! Also, because I'm a homer, most of these will involve the Phillies, the Eagles, or Penn State. That's just the way it is! So, in no particular order:

1. The 1987 Fiesta Bowl. Penn State's last National Championship (because they were robbed in 1994). What a great game: 14-10 over the University of Miami Hurricanes. It's always good to see Miami get smacked around, and this might be one of the heights of Miami-getting-smacked-around-ness. The Hurricanes came in at #1 and wore army fatigues when they got off the plane, as opposed to the Lions' dark suits. Paterno had just been named Sports Illustrated's Sportsman of the Year for 1986, but no one thought his team stood a chance. Miami had Vinny Testaverde, the Heisman Trophy winner, at quarterback, Alonzo Highsmith at running back, and Michael Irvin at wide receiver. Penn State had a good defense but small defensive backs, and Irvin and his counterparts kept talking smack about how they were going to run right by them. Paterno responded by saying that the Miami receivers had never been hit by PSU's defensive backs. At a dinner for the two teams, one of the Miami players said, "Did the Japanese sit down with the Americans before they bombed Pearl Harbor?" and the entire team walked out, to which the Penn State punter - the punter! - got off the classic line, "Hey, didn't the Japanese lose that war?" The game was a slugfest from the beginning. Irvin and his crew got smacked a couple of times by Don Isom and the Penn State defense, and their arms got a lot shorter. Testaverde threw interception after interception. Late in the game Penn State linebacker Shane Conlan intercepted a pass and ran it back to the 5-yard line, from where D. J. Dozier scored the game-winning touchdown. Testaverde brought his team back with a furious drive, only to be intercepted - for the fifth time - by Pete Giftopolous on the goal line with 10 seconds left. Paterno had his second National Championship, and Jimmy Johnson and the Hurricanes learned a lesson about sportsmanship, which, for Johnson and Irvin, didn't carry over into the NFL. This game began my lifelong hatred of Michael Irvin, but it also showed what a great coach Paterno was. His team was very talented, but not as talented as the Hurricanes, and they beat them in every facet of the game. It also, interestingly enough, catapulted the Fiesta Bowl to national prominence, as these two teams were independent and didn't have prior bowl commitments, and the Fiesta Bowl stepped in. A great game, and still a wonderful thing to watch if you like hard-nosed football and Miami getting gobsmacked.

2. Game 6, 1980 World Series. I was only 9 when I watched this on television, so I don't remember too much about it, but I do remember two things: The popup that Bob Boone dropped and Pete Rose saved, and Tug McGraw's final strikeout to give the Phillies their first - and only - World Series win. Good times. What a great team the 1976-1981 Phillies were, yet they only won that one World Series. Stupid Cincinnati Reds and Los Angeles Dodgers, beating them in the playoffs for three straight years. Stupid players' strike in 1981, messing up their momentum. Yes, I'm bitter.

(This is the opening from Game 5, but what a neat old-school theme song!)

3. Villanova beats Georgetown 66-64 to win the 1985 NCAA Basketball Championship ... on April Fools' Day. I watched every second of this game, and loved every minute of it. Not unlike Miami, Georgetown was the bully of college basketball, and the Wildcats of 'Nova were given absolutely no chance whatsoever to beat them. And they had to play a perfect game to do it. Today, whenever a huge underdog hangs with a huge favorite, the commentators always say that the underdog has to play a perfect game ... and they rarely do. Something always happens, usually something small, and the huge favorite takes advantage and wins. Well, Villanova shot 13-of-18 from the floor in the first half ... and then promptly shot 9-of-10 in the second half. This probably couldn't happen today, because this game was played the year before the shot clock was introduced in college, so Villanova could hold the ball a long time. There was also no three-point shot, so Georgetown could never go on a fiery run and put the 'Cats away. What a beautiful display of defensive-minded basketball this is. HBO did a special on the two teams and the game not too long ago, and it's very interesting to watch. The drug problems of the 'Nova team diminishes this game not a bit. This is the last major championship of any Philadelphia team, college or pro. Very sad.

4. The NFC Championship game, January 1981. It's not just because the Eagles won and went to their first Super Bowl (about which we must not speak). It's because they played at home and defeated the Dallas Cowboys, a team Philly always wanted to be rivals with but were never good enough for the Cowboys to notice. And not only did they beat the Cowboys, they smacked them. Wilbert Montgomery ran 42 yards for a touchdown very early in the game, and the game was never in doubt. Montgomery piled up 196 yards rushing, which was a Championship Game record for years (I can't remember who broke it). The final score was 20-7, but it was much more a dominant performance than that indicates. It was a high point for the franchise, and the highest point for quite a while. Sad that a Super Bowl victory isn't one of my favorite moments.

5. Boston College 47, Miami 45. 23 November 1984.

I don't know why I watched this game, but I did. I didn't really care either way about it, but it was probably just the fact that it was the day after Thanksgiving and there was not much else going on. What a freaking game, though. It went back and forth, and I kept rooting for Doug Flutie and the BC Eagles, because I hated the U. Yes, I hated the U even before they played PSU in the Fiesta Bowl! And that Hail Mary that sealed the Heisman for Flutie was a fantastic play. It's one of those games that I can't believe I actually witnessed, because it's a game I had no interest in it. But I'm glad I did.

6. San Diego 41, Miami 38 in overtime, January 1982, AFC Divisional Playoff. Speaking of games I'm not sure why I watched, but I'm glad I did. For some reason, I wasn't doing anything better on a weekend in January 1982 (I was ten, so you would think I would have been out in the winter wonderland getting into all kinds of trouble), so I watched this game, and what a game it was. The Chargers jumped out to a 24-0 lead, and Don Strock came in for the Dolphins and almost brought them all the way back. This is the game with the only hook-and-ladder play I've ever seen work for a touchdown, right before the end of the half that made the score 24-17. The Dolphins actually took the lead in the second half, but they couldn't hold it. Kellen Winslow (the first one, not his selfish bastard spawn who plays for Cleveland now) caught 13 passes for 166 yards and blocked a field goal. He blocked a freakin' field goal! Finally, the Chargers kicked a field goal and won. Then they went to Cincinnati the next week and played in -175 degree temperature and lost. Poor Dan Fouts - that was the last time he got close to the Super Bowl.

7. June 20, 1983. Philadelphia Stars 12, Oakland Invaders 6. This is the only USFL game I ever went to, and although it was a lousy game, it's one of my favorite moments because it was such a fun experience. It rained all night, and the game was so dull that the people in the stands, dancing in the rain as they got drunker and drunker, became the entertainment for me and my dad. We had a ball - it was one of the few times that my dad and I did something together, and I remember it well. The Stars were the dominant team of the USFL, and they broke Philly's heart when they moved to Baltimore before the 1985 season. Of course, soon after that it wouldn't matter much. Jim More coached this team, and they had some great players. It's a shame.

8. Penn State 24, Notre Dame 21, 1990.

Everyone in State College was watching this game on television, and when Penn State upset the #1 ranked Irish with a late field goal, we all went out on the street and partied (the game was in South Bend). While we were jumping around and celebrating, someone near where I was (it wasn't me, I swear!) got the idea to storm the stadium and tear down the goalposts. We gathered people like one of those cartoon snowballs that gets bigger and bigger and ran up to the stadium (which was a good two or three miles away) only to find it locked. Yeah, we weren't that bright. I went home, but some people actually got into the stadium and tore down the goalposts, paraded them down the main drag in town, and deposited them on Paterno's lawn. This led to the smackdown of the following year, 34-13 at home, when we all rushed the field again (and began chanting it early in the fourth quarter when we knew the Lions would win). The university was ready for us, and had the cops there to stop us from tearing the goalposts down. It was the only time I have been maced in my life (or tear-gassed, whichever they used). It ain't pleasant. Still, it's a great sports moment.

9. The 1995 Rose Bowl, Penn State 38, Oregon 20. The Lions played their worst game of the season and still blew out the Ducks, but it wasn't enough to overtake Nebraska, and the Cornhuskers were voted the National Champions even though the two teams should have shared the honor. Stupid voters! Still, this capped Paterno's last unbeaten season (he's had four in which he didn't win a National Championship, by the way) with one of the best offensive teams in college football history. They leveled teams: they beat Minnesota 56-3, Iowa 61-21, Rutgers 55-27, Temple 48-21, Ohio State 63-14, Northwestern 45-17, and Michigan State 59-31. Their two greatest games were against Michigan, whom they beat 31-24 on the road, and against Illinois, against whom they drove down the field late in the game to defeat 35-31, also on the road. Many Penn State fans are still bitter about the lack of a National Championship (including this one). It all came down to a 35-29 win over Indiana, where the Hoosiers scored two meaningless touchdowns in the last two minutes against Paterno's scrubs. But the Rose Bowl was a glorious moment in a glorious season. It's a fine memory.

10. Finally, today is the tenth anniversary of Arizona State's 19-0 victory over the Nebraska Cornhuskers, who were the two-time defending National Champions (even though, as noted, one of them should have been shared) and riding a long, long winning streak. Krys and I went to a Mexican restaurant with my friend Mike and were eating dinner while the game was on. We watched, riveted, as the Sun Devils dominated the Cornhuskers. I have hated Nebraska longer than I've hated Miami (and that's saying something!), so this was completely unexpected. Jake Plummer was cool under pressure, ASU got three (!) safeties, and they completely shut down the Huskers' vaunted running attack. We enjoyed our dinner a lot, let me tell you. This is one of the most stunning games in college football history, but it gets no love from the East Coast media elite. Stupid East Coast media elite! ASU used it to springboard to a PAC-10 title and within a minute of the National Championship. A great game, and a fond memory (even though I wasn't an ASU fan).

There are a lot of sports memories that didn't make the cut: the Sixers 1983 playoff run; the 1983 Sugar Bowl that gave Penn State their first National Championship; the Eagles 2005 NFC Championship Game victory; Games 4 and 5 of the 1993 World Series (the Phillies blew Game 4 and lost 15-14, but it was still a memorable game, and Curt Shilling pitched a complete game shutout in Game 5 to save them for one more day and Joe Carter's heroics); too many Penn State bowl victories to count. What are some of your favorite sports memories? Remember, you had to have witnessed them personally!