More Bitterness: Super Bowl Broadcasting Pet Peeves

This isn't against any broadcasters in particular, but in the general consensus there seems to be among NFL historians that even though a Super Bowl occurred in one year, they call it the Super Bowl of the previous year. It gets especially annoying this time of year, when 'round-the-clock, so it seems, we see highlights from past Super Bowls and Super Bowl teams.

I get it that "The 1998 Vikings" is the correct or best way to refer to the 15-1 team that came a dropped interception* away from reaching the big game. But when the announcer calls the Super Bowl they failed to reach, "The 1998 Super Bowl," I just scratch my head.

More like beat it with my open palm.

It almost sorta-kinda made sense back in the day when the Super Bowl and some playoff games were the only games played after the new year. But now all of the postseason, and even some regular season games occur in the new year. We won't call the NHL finale this spring, "The 2011 Stanley Cup Finals." Nor should we call this Sunday's game, "The 2011 Super Bowl."

But people will, I'm sure. People with jobs about which I'm bitter that I don't have, and that I'm sure I could do better, even though I never proved it when I had the chance.


*That missed INT was every bit as easy as Anderson's missed FG, and it occurred afterwards, with no time for Atlanta to make a comeback. So unlike the missed FG that most historians mention, I look at THAT play as the one that really cost the Vikes a trip to the Show.

More Embittered Criticism of Broadcasters

I posted on Facebook during the BCS championship game a pet peeve of mine, being committed by color analyst Kirk Herbstreit, when he said "excaped" twice in the game.

That shouldn't even be a pet peeve. Pet peeves are the little things that bug you. A national network broadcaster doing a championship game doing that is a disgrace. But then, as you may recall, I'm hypercritical of broadcasters, having been one for five years, and leaving the business despite it forever remaining in my blood.

Anyway, I have another gripe, aimed at local sportscaster Mark Rosen, as well as many others who have committed the same blunder. He said Baltimore Ravens kicker Billy Cundiff "pushed" his missed field goal (and said it twice, which is important to note, since I generally excuse mistakes when done only once, as possibly just moments of misspeaking).

The rule: It's just like in golf. When a right-footed kicker misses left, that's pulling it. When he misses right, that's pushing it.

I really need to see a therapist.

Bowling a 300: An Exercise in Probability and Statistics

February 8 will mark the 24th anniversary of my first and only sanctioned 300 game of bowling. I like to tell people I got mine back when it "meant something," which is mostly true, although most bowling historians (can I get a job like that?) will tell you that even in 1988, a 300 meant less than it did even only years prior, and in 1983, it meant less than five years prior to that. But at least it meant enough to feel like a once-in-a-lifetime event when it happened to this 21-year-old, a whole house full of bowlers stopped what they were doing to watch, and the 12th strike strike was met with a huge roar.

The problem with joke-boasting about having done it when it "meant something" is that one would expect that I'd have no trouble doing it again (and again, and again, ...). I expect it will come, but the closest I've come since "getting back into" bowling in recent years and actually keeping up with technology has been a 296 game (left the bucket...too much speed on the final shot). I've also had 15 in a row over the course of two games (Andy Veripapa, anyone?)

So the other day I was wondering, what would the mathematical odds be of me bowling a 300 game on any particular night? If I treated my bowling like a dice game, I could calculate this. Luckily, if a bit geekily, I keep stats for fun, and can indeed calculate this.

Among stats I keep are strike percentage and double percentage (how often I follow a strike with another strike). Over the past two season, with 72 games logged, my strike percentage is 64.71%. My double percentage is 63.25% (which means I might be inclined to let the nerves get to me knowing how important it is to follow a strike with another one).

So, if we had a 10,000-sided die to roll (take that, D&D fans), we could mimic my game by saying that everything between 1 and 6471 would be a strike, and in a frame following a strike, everything between 1 and 6325 would be a strike.

The odds, then, of a 300 game would be .6471 * .6325^11 = .004194, or .42% rounded off. Put another way, you could expect a 300 game every 238 games or so.

There was a time in my life where I bowled that many sanctioned games in a season. If I still were, I might be one of those guys with several 300 games to his credit. Still, the top bowlers in the Twin Cities area have scores of 300 scores (see what I did there?), so they are doing more than just bowling more. They are indeed bowling better. The former does tend to beget the latter, but there's more to bowling closer to your potential than simply bowling more.

If I were to improve my strike and double percentages to 65% each, my likelihood of a 300 game becomes 1 in 176. Improve them to 66.67% each (2 strikes in every 3 shots), and it's 1 in 130. At 70% each, it's 1 in 72.

The "dice" game version of course does not factor in the human element of pressure. The die would not know that it had just rolled 11 strikes in a row. So how does a human combat this? Knowledge is power, I say. Knowing that my time will come if I am just patient should, in theory, allow me to relax more when a game gets into the "nervous zone" of 8 or 9 strikes in a row. I just need to wait it out, and it will happen. Maybe not within the 238-game span, but it will, eventually.

Yeah, I know, easier said than done.

One other thing is clear from the statistics: Since I'm not likely to get permission from the better half to bowl 238, 176, or even 130 games a year, it behooves me to try to improve with the relatively few games I am able to bowl and practice, if I am to not only get that next 300 soon, but even more to come.

Ice Hockey and Checking

I received an e-mail from the Minnesota Hockey Association with the following:

Minnesota Hockey families:
Due to the tragic injury suffered recently by Jack Jablonski in a high school hockey game, the Minneapolis Hockey Association created Jack's Pledge. The Minneapolis Hockey Association is where Jack played youth hockey and developed his strong passion for our wonderful sport. Jack's Pledge is a grassroots program aimed at enhancing safety in the game of hockey. Through membership in Jack's Pledge, hockey associations, hockey teams, hockey coaches and hockey players pledge to play the right way -- Jack's way -- by the rules, safe, smart and skillfully.

We strongly encourage you to learn more about Jack's Pledge here.

Thank you,
Minnesota Hockey

Now, while I appreciate the sentiment, and agree that something should be done, I can't help but wonder why the Minnesota Hockey Association doesn't just insist on enforcing USA Hockey's declarations. To wit:

“The purpose of a body check is to (get position to) separate the opponent from the puck. Any time a player delivers a check for the purpose of intimidating or punishing the opponent, and therefore causes the opponent to be driven excessively into the boards, a boarding penalty must be called.”

I took the above quote from an excellent article by Jack Blatherwick, former strength and training coach with the University of Minnesota hockey team, an expert in training for hockey, and somewhat of a curmudgeon when it comes to the purity (or lack thereof) of the game.

Here are his most recent articles from the publication Let's Play Hockey, both of which were inspired by the recent injuries suffered by high school players Jack Jablonski and Jenna Privette.

Boarding penalty must be enforced with zero tolerance

Adults must make it happen: Replace violence with skill

To put it simply, spot on, Mr. Blatherwick.

Second League Session With New Style

I rolled a 683 with my new-old "Del Ballard" style last Tuesday. Scored 247, 201, and 235 for a 683. While better than average, there was a good deal of disappointment in it.

I started game one with seven straight strikes, then left a ringing 10-pin, and proceeded to Mika my spare shot right in the channel. I beat my man by five pins (one pin actual, as I get four sticks on him, since he averages over 240), so that was OK, but a seven pin in the 10th kept me from getting my team the win.

Game two I got a little lost, striking only five times, whiffed another 10-pin, this time to the left, but still managed to tie my opponent actual, thus winning with my handicap. Our team won our game as well. Game three was odd, and was not looking good, but I benefited from a 10-pin by my opponent in the tenth, while I went sheet from the 8th frame for a 235. It tied my opponent actual, giving me the win with my sticks, plus another team win.

Pretty cool tying my guy twice and beating him by one pin in the other in actual pin count. You don't see that too often.

So while my new form definitely worked in leading me to the pocket, my poor spare shooting and occasional brain cramping kept me from having a real fine series. Still, all in all, I'm encouraged.