The Big Leagues

First it was Electronic Gaming Monthly. Then it was Stuff. Now, years later, it's Rolling Stone:


I wrote this letter to the editor in response to writer Rob Sheffield's commentary on Lost from two issues prior. What appears in print is a condensed version of what I originally submitted, but I'll be sure to express the omitted thoughts when the series concludes in a few months.

An added bonus: having my name grace the same space as journalist Matt Taibbi, a fearless political writer who delivers hard-hitting analyses "written as if during the middle of a bar fight."

Blame Canada

I knew the USA-Canada hockey game on Sunday night would be big. I just didn't know how big a U.S victory would be.

For obvious reasons, this was Canada's game to win. And after watching both teams play their first few games, I figured the Canadians, with the clear advantage in star power, wouldn't have trouble disposing of a much younger, inexperienced American team by 2-3 goals.

But in my mind there was only one handicap Canada could have given Team USA: Marty Brodeur. They played him in goal, and it cost them big-time.

Don't get me wrong—there's no doubt that Brodeur is one of the best goaltenders to have ever played the game. Here's a brief glimpse of his killer resume:

• The NHL's all-time leader in regular season wins, shutouts, and games played
  
• More than 30 franchise records, including most all-time regular season and playoff wins, shutouts, games, and lowest goals-against average
  
• Three Stanley Cup championships
  
• Four-time Vezina Trophy winner, four-time Jennings Trophy winner, 10-time NHL All Star, and a Calder Memorial Trophy winner
  
• One of only two NHL goaltenders to have scored goals in both the regular season and the playoffs; the only NHL goalie to score a game-winning goal.

Brodeur is known for his hybrid goaltending style by standing up more than butterfly goalies, who drop to their knees often. It's gotten him this far, and even at his veteran age of 38, I'd still take him over half the goalies in the NHL.

But when I've watched Brodeur play periodically in the past few years, he's given up questionable goals, mostly as a result of his unconventional style of play. During this relatively new generation of super-athletic, butterfly-sliding goalies, Brodeur has become outdated. But don't take that as an insult, Marty—you've been incredibly successful as New Jersey's starting netminder for the past 19 seasons.

Canada started Roberto Luongo in net for their opening Olympic game against Norway. Apparently coach Mike Babcock planned on going with the more-experienced Brodeur as his No. 1 for the tournament, but wanted to get Luongo's skates wet in case he needed to call on him later. But instead of anticipating sub-par play from his starting goalie, Babcock should have stuck with Luongo (an All Star in his own right, playing on his home ice), similar to how the Team USA coach Ron Wilson preselected Ryan Miller to play the entire way. Babcock handed the reins over to Brodeur against Switzerland in the second game.

Had Luongo played against Team USA on Sunday night, I'm not so sure so many Americans would have been celebrating. I say this chiefly because the 6'3" butterflyer would have stopped the goals that Brodeur let in. And this goes back to what I was saying before: Brodeur may have been a better goalie five years ago, but Luongo is now.

Brodeur's biggest issue was the same one I've seen in the past few seasons: save selection. Consider the evidence:

1. Even though the first goal was deflected in by his own teammate, a standard butterfly would have prevented the goal, instead of Brodeur going going paddle-down with his stick.
   
2. On the second goal, the butterfly would have been more effective than hesitantly stacking the pads on a low shot through traffic.
   
3. On the third goal, Brodeur's lack of stick pressure allowed the puck to seep through the five-hole with his stick between his legs in a rare sideways position only seen from Squirt- and Mite-level goalies.
   
4. On the fourth goal (which proved to be the game-winner), Brodeur gambled and dove with a poke check, but didn't connect. Way out of position, he frantically tried to recover, but not before Chris Drury capitalized on a mostly open net.

Overall, Brodeur didn't have a horrible game—he made some big stops at key times. But for Team Canada in the Olympics in Vancouver against the USA, it wasn't acceptable. Babcock later agreed, giving the nod to Luongo for as many more games Canada can play as they head down the path of most resistance to the gold medal.

"We're in the winning business. And to win in any game you need big saves. You need momentum-changing saves, and we're looking at Lou to do that for us. He's a great big butterfly goaltender. If you look at the way pucks went in our net last night with traffic, which is the way the game is now [emphasis added], sometimes just being down in that big butterfly, things hit you and just bump into you. We believe Lou gives us a real good opportunity to win, and so that's why we're going with him."

I don't blame Canada so much for their loss as I do Babcock. His realization about playing the right goalie came a few games too late.

Meanwhile, at the other end of the ice was Ryan Miller, winning goaltender and instant American hero. Even with Brodeur's unsatisfactory performance, the Americans would have lost without Miller, who played the game of his life in stopping 42 of 45 shots and holding the Canadians off until the very end.

But when asked about winning the goaltending battle, he couldn't shake the the impression still held by so many—an impression that may begin to fade in the near future:

"I'm just trying to build my resume. Marty's the best."

Related: Olympic hockey is best showcase for the sport; don't ruin it, Gary

Area man able to get on pec-fly machine for first time

By Ken Devine

NEW YORK—Manhattan resident Craig Sullivan reported that he used the pec-fly machine at Frank's Fitness on Friday for the first time ever.

Sullivan, 38, said that he'd been trying to get on the popular pectoral machine ever since he joined the Midtown gym almost eight months ago.

"It's been beyond frustrating," admitted the wiry, flat-chested real estate manager. "The 'fly' is the best for building up your chest, but I guess every guy in here knows that. Even when I'm working out during off-hours, some buff jackass is always monopolizing it."

Sullivan said that despite the virtual impossibility of using the LifeFitness-brand machine and his zero-percent success rate, he always held out hope for the off-chance that he'd one day enter the alcove next to the free weights to find the machine unattended.

But after continually being denied and forced to use the standard chest-press machine instead, Sullivan's patience finally paid off. After finishing his workout around 8:50 p.m. on Friday, Sullivan said he was about to hit the showers when he was struck by one of those rare "what if?" moments shortly before Frank's was set to close.

"I walked past the free weights on my way out and then just sort of stopped and turned my head," he recounted. "I can't explain it, but I just had this feeling that for once, the machine might be open. When I rounded the corner and didn't see anyone there, I almost crapped my pants."

Unfortunately, by the time Sullivan overcame his excitement, adjusted the seat, and set the proper weight at 20 pounds, he was only able to squeeze in a few reps before an announcement was made over the loudspeaker that the gym was about to close.

"I stayed on it as long as I could, but eventually one of the trainers came up and told me I had to leave so that the last few employees could go home. Almost got almost a full set in, though."

According to Sullivan, getting on the pec-fly machine this one time is really the only plus in a long list of grievances he’s had with Frank’s Fitness. Among them: perpetually malfunctioning treadmills, tip-hungry locker room attendants, and dripping-wet bathrooms and showers that constantly reek of a distinctive mildewy funk.

But none aggravated him more than the general invasion of personal space in the locker room.

"There's no space in the locker room, or anywhere in this city, really," said the St. Louis native. "Someone is always bumping into you, and there's always naked man ass in my face."

Sullivan elaborated with something he calls "The Law of Locker Room Proximity"—a so-called truth he coined after many locker room tribulations.

"You could be one of two people in the entire gym—the entire gym—and you'll end up picking the locker next to the one other guy who will come in as soon as you sit down," he explained. "Never fails."

"I'm cursed," he muttered with utter defeat.

In describing his overwhelmingly negative experience at Frank's, Sullivan mentioned that he once thought of ending his membership, but hesitated after learning of the hefty early-termination fee.

Plus, he thinks he may be able to get another crack at the pec fly someday.

Why the NFL Sucks

I wrote about this subject a few years ago, but after watching the Vikings get eliminated in overtime by the Saints last weekend, I thought it was worth reviving.

Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a huge college football fan, but I don't care much for the NFL. Other reasons aside, one thing that really irks about the NFL is its sudden-death overtime system. It's wrong and unfair.

Because football is a game of alternating possessions, it doesn't lend itself to a system that determines its winner based on who can score first. Although the college game is flawed with the BCS, its alternating-possession system works well in overtime, where both teams have an equal chance to prevail. Sudden death works best in more fluid, back-and-forth sports like hockey, where possession changes often and the system provides the edge-of-your seat thrills that it's supposed to. It just doesn't have a place on the gridiron.

In football, the sudden-death system favors the offense. Yes, the offensive team has to receive the ball on their end of the field, but they only have to move the ball about 40 yards to set up a game-winning field goal. And this is what kills me the most about watching teams get eliminated from the playoffs in overtime: After a hard-fought game, sudden death essentially allows the random flip of a coin to likely determine the winner—but not necessarily the best team or the one that deserved to win. It's just cheap.

I remember watching the Titans beat the Steelers in overtime a few seasons ago on a Gary Anderson chip shot—well, chip shots (there were penalties). As Nashville began to go crazy, it felt like a victory that was neither decisive nor satisfying—all it proved was that the Titans could kick the ball through the uprights on their first possession in overtime. Could Pittsburgh have pulled that off had the coin flipped their way? Probably. But the Titans got to play the next week while the Steelers were done for the year.

The only way to improve the NFL's sudden-death system is to make teams go the length of the field to score touchdowns. Making it mandatory to get into the endzone would certainly make it fairer for the team playing defense, but the games would run longer. There's a downside no matter how you slice it, but above all, the factor that should take precedence is fairness.

The Vikings shot themselves in the foot several times against the Saints. But if there was no sudden death, Brett Favre might be playing next weekend in another Super Bowl. And although I'm not an NFL guru, Favre vs. Manning is a matchup that even I would be excited to watch.

Vindication:

• Analysis: Overtime change in NFL would bring cheers, jeers
  
• Roger Goodell: NFL overtime change 'very much worth consideration'
  
• NFL outsmarts itself with new OT ruling
  
• New NFL postseason overtime rules offer strategy challenges
  

Take a Bow

I'm not a big watcher of late-night television, but with all the recent drama around NBC's late-show lineup, and after watching Conan O'Brien's final shows last week on The Tonight Show, I realized that I have a lot of feelings on the subject.

Everyone should watch Conan's heartfelt farewell monologue. In the last segment of his last show, Conan laid down the arms that he'd been relentlessly bashing NBC with since he saw the writing on the wall a few weeks ago. In a rare moment of seriousness and sincerity, he closed with a classy statement to thank his longtime employer—the same employer he had faithfully and tirelessly served for over two decades, only to quickly become his adversary in his last two weeks of employment—not to mention the butt of all his (very funny) jokes.

"Between my time at Saturday Night Live, The Late Night Show, and my brief run here on The Tonight Show, I've worked with NBC for over 20 years. Yes, we have our differences right now. Yes, we're going our separate ways. But this company has been my home for most of my adult life. I am enormously proud of the work we have done together, and I wanna thank NBC for making it all possible. I really do."

On His Terms
You have to empathize with Conan in the same way that he empathizes with people on his show, because you can only imagine how devastating his decision was to step down from a dream job that he spent the better part of his career chasing.

But despite the fact that his show would have been pushed back just 30 minutes later to 12:05 a.m., Conan couldn't do it on principle alone. As a purist and a fan, he couldn't bring himself to participate in what he termed "the destruction" of The Tonight Show, according to a written statement. Conan refused to compromise. Earlier in his career under similar circumstances, maybe he would have. But not now.

"I sincerely believe that delaying The Tonight Show into the next day to accommodate another comedy program will seriously damage what I consider to be the greatest franchise in the history of broadcasting. The Tonight Show at 12:05 simply isn't The Tonight Show."

In the same statement, Conan also showed deference to Jimmy Fallon, whose show would have been bumped back even further had Conan gone to 12:05. Even when he was finally on top, Conan didn't forget about the little guy. It was a position he knew very, very well.

On another note of professionalism, Conan was gracious in his untimely exit, choosing to see the glass as half-full.

"But despite this sense of loss, I really feel this should be a happy moment. Every comedian—every comedian—dreams of hosting The Tonight Show. And for seven months, I got to do it. And I did it my way, with people I love. I do not regret one second of anything that we've done here.

I encounter people when I walk on the street who give me kind of a sad look... I have had more good fortune than anyone I know, and if our next gig is doing a show in a 7-11 parking lot, we will find a way to make it fun."

The Wrong Guy
If they're not kicking themselves right now, NBC execs will when they realize what they've lost. It was one thing to not cut the cord with Jay Leno in 2009 after determining Conan to be his successor five years prior, but it was just insulting to restore Leno's prime placement a mere seven months after the baton had been passed. NBC should have stuck with the newer host who has the better range of generational appeal—the guy they chose to lead them into a new decade of late-night entertainment. Instead they pulled a Brett Favre-type reversal.

Leno is also to blame. If he didn't want to get out of late-night, he should have never agreed to step down years in advance while supporting his eventual successor. He should have taken his show elsewhere. And because The Chin hasn't backed down from a chance to reclaim what was his for a long time, he'll be in an unenviable position next to the martyred Conan when he returns on March 1st: as the bad guy.

During his final slate of episodes, it was really clear that Conan O'Brien is the one guy that NBC shouldn't have screwed over. General NBC trashing aside, Conan was intent on taking NBC for every penny he could—and he made sure everyone knew his rebellious stance. As parting shots, he introduced one-off, 11th-hour characters to the show that weren't so much funny as they were "crazy-expensive."

To illustrate further, the first line from the opening monologue of his last show says it all:

"Ladies and gentlemen, we have exactly one hour to steal every single item in this studio."

King of the Jungle
Out of all the late-night hosts, Conan has always been my favorite because of one simple, underrated quality: humility. Conan embraces self-deprecation like no other. Quite wisely, he's learned that he can always fall back on a bad joke or a failed bit by making fun of himself, be it his ridiculous hairdo or general uncoolness. Conan is simply more likable because he always beats everyone to the punchline. And with his instant comedic analysis, he's also the first to admit to his audience that a joke or bit wasn't funny (which actually makes it funny). His no-ego approach naturally makes him someone you want to root for. And we did.

As someone who understands and appreciates the depths and nuances of the human condition, Conan closed his goodbye speech, ever so humble and wise:

"And finally, I have something to say to our fans. This massive outpouring of support and passion from so many people has been overwhelming for me. The rallies, the signs; all this goofy, outrageous creativity on the Internet; the fact that people have traveled long distances and camped out all night in the pouring rain. It's been raining for days—it's literally pouring out there.

Here's what all of you have done: You've made a sad situation joyous and inspirational. So to all the people watching, I can never, ever [chokes on tears] thank you enough for the kindness to me. I'll think about it the rest of my life.

And all I ask is one thing, and I'm asking this particularly of the young people that watch: Please do not be cynical. I hate cynicism. For the record, it's my least-favorite quality. It doesn't get you anywhere.

Nobody in life gets exactly what they thought they were going to get. But if you work really hard and you're kind, amazing things will happen. I'm telling you: Amazing things will happen. It's just true."

Free Bird
The good news is that Conan will be back at some point in some form, and he'll continue to do the show he wants to do. In a way, it almost seems right that a maverick such as himself didn't stay on a mainstream show more than seven months, because his spontaneous, wildcard humor never really fit a mold other than his own. His departure also validates his identity as a fringe comic who was able to take more creative liberties and abide by an anything-goes approach in the early hours of the morning. Conan's always been a man of the people.

So maybe in the long run, this will be the best thing that ever happened to him. Conan, above anyone, is a firm believer that when one door closes, another opens. It's just true.

After all that, Conan left us with one great last gem on his blog:

"I ask you to take away from all of this one thing: inspiration. Everyone has dreams. Everyone has hopes... Make something. Do something. You can make it happen.

As I sit in this office with no windows, the only sound the whoosh of the little fan that pushes the hot air around my office, I can tell you this: There is no difference between me and you. You can do this. You can do anything. You just have to get out there and do it."

Related

• Conan O'Brien scores big ratings with his final show
  
• If this isn't a sign: Johnny Carson passed away on January 23rd. Conan's final show ended at 12:35 a.m. on January 23rd.
  
• 69% of TV Guide Readers Won't Watch Leno
  
• Why Former Jay Leno Fans Turned Their Back on 'The Tonight Show'
  
• Conan O'Brien tells '60 Minutes' he would have left NBC if roles were reversed