Hire Purpose

The more thoroughly I examine the job market, the more completely insane the process of hiring companies undergo seems to me. A friend recently applied for an opening. She was qualified from top to bottom. Cinderella's glass slipper wasn't as good a fit as she was for this position. Fast forward to the end of the process and she wasn't even interviewed.

Amazing. I get that companies sometimes hire people that aren't the specific choice of others who aren't part of the process. I mean, I think we've all fixed people up (or have been fixed up) on a blind date that ended in disaster. Sometimes who you think is a good fit and who someone else thinks is good can differ. But no interview? Why would you be that stupid? As a person charged with hiring for your company, your job is to improve your organization. Maybe this friend isn't the right fit, but surely she's worth talking to.

I know some married people who dated in high school, were each others first boy/girlfriend, got married and are the love of each others lives. Sure, it's conceivable that it's true that each of them could not find someone better. However, they can never know for certain because they have no comparison. Maybe, as one other friend suggested, the organization hired from within. That's the same as this married scenario. From within, there's a familiarity and comfort. But you don't interview someone? You don't want to take 30 minutes out of your life to be certain? Isn't it your objective to make your organization as strong as possible?

In sports, professional teams never have this issue. Even when a team is supposedly set at a position, with Aaron Rodgers or Peyton Manning, for instance, they still bring quarterbacks into training camp every year to A. compete as a backup to those guys and B. who knows...maybe guy #2 is the greatest quarterback ever. I mean, Tom Brady started out as a no name backup at one time. Pro teams try guys out all year long, sign players, release them, sign new ones. They're always looking to improve their team–even if they are Super Bowl contenders.

But some companies, many it seems, don't trouble themselves to do the same thing. Here's an opening and a person who is highly qualified for the job. In the interest of making our organization as strong as possible, should we see if they might be good for this position? No...no, probably not. We'll just go with whomever is lying around.

The other day I saw a jobs report on the news. It said that unemployment had dropped a bit but that there were still three unemployed people for every one open position. Add to that the fact that these unemployed not only have to compete with each other for jobs, but also with people who already have jobs.  No wonder the jobless rate is only inching downward. Tom Brady can just wait his turn.

Who Cares?

I hate apologies. They're pointless. In fact, they're selfish. The real point of any apology isn't to express remorse over regretful behavior, as it is so often portrayed. The real point of an apology is to take yourself off the hook for your guilt.

Now let us distinguish from the honest mistake. You make a batch of brownies, I eat one, later to find out they were for some class party or the church bake sale--oops, my bad! That's an honest mistake. It happens from time to time and a simple "sorry" to suggest, hey, I wasn't aware I was causing an injury, I admit the mistake, is a fair enough response.

Suppose, in contrast, you are having an affair. Your spouse finds out. I'm sorry, baby. Yeah, except no. That isn't an honest mistake. That's a malicious act. Your apology isn't to mend your spouse's feelings, it's to limit the notion they now have of you being the scumbag you really are. The apology doesn't repair damage, it deflects blame.

There have been a rash of apologies in sports recently. In baseball, in basketball, in football and other sports, leagues have apologized, explaining about an erroneous call that might have changed the outcome of a game.

Blake Griffin was recently ejected from a game against the Warriors. The Warriors won the game, 105-103. Would they have won the game anyway if Griffin wasn't ejected? Who knows? But if I were Warriors' head coach Mark Jackson, I'd rather play the Clippers without Griffin than with. The league later said he shouldn't have been ejected and...that's it. Oops! The Clippers still lost. No do overs or anything. Just, you know, sorry 'bout that.

The apology parade was on display again today. The Chargers earned their way into the NFL playoffs, beating Kansas City, 27-24 in overtime of the final game of the year. The win put San Diego in the playoffs and kept the Pittsburgh Steelers out. Had KC won, the Steelers would have made the playoffs instead of San Diego. Kansas City missed a 41-yard field goal at the end of regulation that would have won the game. Afterwards, the league admitted there should have been a penalty on San Diego on the play, which would have given the Chiefs a second chance--this time from 36-yards out, to win the game.

Sure, KC played several reserve players and that's likely the reason the game was ever that close to begin with. But the point is, San Diego won and thus advanced to the post season. Pittsburgh has to watch on TV like the rest of us. And what difference does it make? The Steelers probably wouldn't have made it to the Super Bowl anyway, and the Chargers aren't likely to either. But because of the call that wasn't, the Chargers now have a slim chance to make the Super Bowl, whereas the Steelers have no chance. But the league apologized. So, you know, the folks in Pittsburgh have got that going for them...which is nice.

And the bottom line in all of this is that the apologies have amounted to nothing. There should have been a penalty, the guy shouldn't have been ejected, that guy was really safe, not out. Sorry about that. Who cares? It didn't change anything. Here's an apology that's worthwhile: We're sorry our officials can't get the call right to begin with. We're sorry we don't put enough money, time and effort into training the officials not to make these mistakes. We're sorry we have to keep making these pointless apologies.

I don't ever believe one thing changes an entire game and I understand officiating is a tough job--having done it myself. But can the leagues not understand that these apologies only incite fans to think of the officials as being more incompetent and incapable than they really are? The apologies don't mend feelings. In the case in San Diego, it just makes the people in Pittsburgh hate you more. So next time there's a call not made that should have been, just shrug your shoulders and say, meh, what are you gonna do? Sorry to be so blunt.

Credit where credit is due

This week, Sen. Elizabeth Warren–or as I like to call her, the love of my life, for her sheer disdain of Wall Street bankers–introduced a bill to Congress, along with six other co-authors–that would prevent companies from doing a credit check prior to employment.

The bill was introduced to help combat the rising number of employees being denied jobs because of poor credit. The research, according to Warren, demostrated "little or no" relationship between job performance and credit score. I know the bill aims to address a very real problem–a problem I fully support resolving– but what bill might address the bigger problem related to this issue–stupidity?

At the risk of ripping off the Big Lebowski, am I the only one here who thinks it's stupid to check a person's credit before hiring them? First, most job seekers don't have jobs and therefore have little to no revenue and therefore have problems paying their bills in a manner they might otherwise like to or be capable of. Thus, your credit score goes down. That's like helping obese people–but only the ones who don't have diabetes, an inflated BMI or high cholesterol.

Further, think of how limiting that is. Hey boss, should we sign LeBron James? You kidding? Look at his bad credit. Umm...ok. Don't you want the best people you can find? Do you think only the finest potential employees have stellar credit? The only thing a credit report should be good for is telling you whether or not you should let someone buy a queen bedroom set for 90-days same as cash. My sister went through treatment for cancer. My dad had bypass surgery for his heart. These sorts of things happen to lots of people–and it's really expensive, insurance or not. Hmm, put a little money towards continuing to live or should I beat my 10-day grace period on my Visa? Decisions, decisions. And never mind your transmission going out, your furnace breaking down or your pipes springing a leak–which almost never happens at inconvenient times. You don't know why someone has a low credit score. So often, a person's credit score says nearly nothing about them as people.

And what if other areas did this? Do you know how few college athletes, sailors, soldiers and airmen we'd have if we ran a credit report on them? The Heisman goes to...Carter Blakesworth, of the Newport Blakesworths...jolly good show! (You have to say that last line with your teeth clenched).

Certainly there are still some people that think a credit report is useful in hiring for some stupid reason. I mean, what if that person steals from the company, embezzles cash or is otherwise untrustworthy? Good point–if only every employee had tidy credit reports like Michael Milken, Ivan Bosky, Jeffrey Skilling or Bernie Madoff. Oh, but...I mean, er...um. You'd have to steal an amazingly huge pile of Post-Its, paper clips and staples to reach Madoff's level. And who do you think had better credit, me or him?

But I know how this is all going to unfold. I know how Congress acts in situations like this–I know "Congress" and "act" don't really belong in the same sentence, but just roll with me. Conservatives will respond like this: This bill does nothing to hurt business, shareholders or executives...yet, it seems to favor people who aren't any of those things and we are therefore suspicious and do not support it. Liberals will respond like this: We support this thing, but we can clearly see that we've upset you and therefore can't, in good conscience, support it either. And the bill will die and that is that.

Then we can get back to being the Schizophrenic States of America: We the People...I mean, the ones with good credit, only. We hold these truths to be self evident...you know, for the people getting 5% cash back on all purchase. The tree of Liberty must be refreshed from time to time with the blood of tyrants...by which I mean a king, not a corporation. If that's the case, the blood of the jobless will do just fine. A house divided against itself cannot stand...unless, you know, the division is comprised of people with good credit and people with bad credit. Give me your tired,  your poor...wait, on second thought, don't. And let's leave it with the words of Nathan Hale, "I only regret that I have but one ding against my FICO score..."

Analyze this

Do you ever watch something on TV and think, hell, I can do that? Answer the question right on Jeopardy, catch the winning touchdown pass, report on a hurricane in a driving wind? I do that many nights when watching sports recaps on league networks, like #NBA TV, or on the world wide leader in people screaming over one another, #ESPN. Last night was no different. I often get most frustrated with the fixation on last-second moments in close games, like the recent game between the #New York Knicks and #Washington Wizards.

Understand this, it isn't that I think the analysts–NBA analysts in this case–are wrong or do a bad job. I just have a different outlook. I get that the game-winning shot in final seconds is where the drama is, but the fact is that last shot only counts for two, just like all the others. The story of the game was when Washington's #Bradley Beal drove to the basket and hit a layup with just under seven seconds left, giving the Wizards a 102-101 lead, which turned out to be the final score.

Rather than set up a play during a timeout, the Knicks hurried the ball up the court in the closing seconds, with #Carmelo Anthony missing a rushed shot at the buzzer. Should they have called a timeout? Should they have played better help-side defense? What could the Knicks done better to win the game, the analysts pondered.

Umm...how about hit any shot they missed during the game. Sure, there is inherent drama in the closing seconds, but the Knicks missed seven free throws. Beal's shot would have merely tied the game had they hit one of those. Had they made 34 shots from the floor rather than 33, the Wizards would have lost anyway–or at least forced a three or fouled the Knicks late or something.

#John Wall hit the first shot of the game for the Wizards, with 11 minutes to play in the first quarter. How come that's not the winning shot? Take that shot away and Washington loses. Why does the shot at the end mean more? And why is it the Knicks blew it? Poor defense late in the game? What about poor perimeter defense in the entire game? The Wizards shot over 61% from three-point range. That's ridiculously high, by the way, in case you aren't a big basketball percentage relevance person. How warm is it supposed to be today? 148 degrees. That's a comparison of how good 61% from three range is. They also shot better than 51% from the floor, which is, again, on the high side.

Maybe the Knicks didn't play poor defense in the final seven seconds insomuch as they played poor defense for the first 47 minutes and 53 seconds of the game. Or maybe Washington was just hot that night.

OK, how's this: The Knicks rotate on the drive by Beal and he misses the shot or definitely doesn't pass to a wide-open shooter. That's guaranteed? Oh, I mean, they call a timeout, set up a play and it works perfectly, they hit a shot and win the game. That's it?

No. And do you know why? You lose sometimes. The Knicks didn't have an opportunity with seven seconds to win the game, they had opportunity after opportunity after opportunity for 48 minutes to win the game. But they didn't. And even if you nail down the exact 'why' for the loss, it doesn't matter. It's still a loss.  And the point is, everything counts. Every free throw, every rebound, every turnover, every pass, every made basket–games aren't made up of final-second moments. Every inch and every second counts as much as the next. If only the Knicks had played better defense against Wall in the opening minute, we wouldn't be having this discussion.

High and Mighty

The high school football playoffs in California will take place this coming weekend. After decades of having no definitive state champion, the governing body in California, the #CIF, finally adopted a championship structure to put to rest any argument as to which school had the best team. And that championships have gotten increasingly popular since they began seven years ago. There are five different divisions that have state championship games and in the past three years, Northern California teams have won eight of those games and Southern California teams have won seven. That parity, after some early dominance by the south, is part of what has piqued the interest of high school football fans.

If you are at all interested in high school football, however, there is something worth noting. High school football–though exciting, fun, full of spirit and community pride–is pretty much college football these days, at least in California. What that means is, with the enrollment policies of most school districts in California, high school teams are not always comprised simply of the kids that live a mile or two from the campus.

Some states have, by comparison, different sports divisions for private and public schools. Those states, recognizing that private schools have a bit of an advantage by being able to accept any student from virtually anywhere whereas public schools get whoever lives in the area, level the playing field by making private schools compete for championships against one another so public schools have a fair chance to win their own title. California doesn't need to do this. Surely there have been plenty of private schools to succeed in state championships in California, but with enrollment policies being what they are, public schools are not at a disadvantage.

Many school districts in the state have an open enrollment policy–or what they sometimes pleasantly call a 'school choice' program. In other words, if you don't like the school down the street, you can go to another school in the district. It opens up improved educational opportunities for those students who want them, is the idea behind the policy. The problem with the policy, however, is it's nearly never used for students in elementary or middle school. Most of the students who "choose" a different school, do so at the high school level. Further, while I've known hundreds of kids over the years to opt for a choice other than their neighborhood high school, I've never known of one who didn't play sports. Certainly it's possible there are some normal students making a choice to go elsewhere, but those students are grossly outnumbered by athletes seeking better opportunities. And if you're talking about a charter school, it's even easier. A kid from San Diego or Crescent City could, for instance, go to #Sacramento High, a local charter school. Any kid anywhere can go to the charter of his or her choice. Period. That simple.

In fact, the high school in the neighboring community, #Folsom High, is a popular choice for kids in our community. And kids from adjoining communities often migrate to Folsom, as well. The #Folsom Bulldogs are one of the best football teams in the state right now and the lure of that success is hard to resist for some kids. And the process is easy. A kid in our community can just sign up to go to Folsom High while in middle school. That's it. He doesn't have to move, doesn't have to pretend to live with his "aunt" in Folsom; he just has to register. And it's a matter of some simple paperwork for kids that live outside the district. I knew a girl once who lived 50 miles from here. Her parents worked at a nearby company and it was just easier for them to drop her at our local high school rather than have her go to the high school in her neighborhood. No problem. The only thing missing these days from high school is a letter of intent.

And that's probably not far away. A middle school basketball coach told me once that coaches from surrounding area schools often come to their games and recruit players to come to those schools. Hmm, that feels slightly creepy, doesn't it? Here's the scene: middle school sports are right after school. As such, not every parent has a chance to come see the games, with work and all. So there he is, a grown adult coach, cozied up with your kid, saying, hey, you should come play for me. It's only a small step from there to, hey, you should come watch gladiator movies at my house. But those are the circumstances these enrollment policies have created. Our school has new construction and brand new turf, a great new weight room and a high API score–these are the types of arguments college recruiters make with high school athletes and yet high school coaches are out there right now making these same arguments with 12-year-olds. Oh, except there's no such thing as recruiting in high school, wink, wink, nudge, nudge!

So the next time you have occasion to go to a high school sporting event, enjoy all of the fun and excitement. Have a hot dog, buy a T-shirt, do the wave. Yep, it's fun, for sure. Just be careful about your cheers. Instead of cheering "let's go Sac High," for instance, you might need to cheer, "let's go group of kids dressed in the uniform of my preferred local school!" Isn't it wonderful how high school sports bring a community together? Or in this case, not?

To the Interstate, and beyond!

I read the other day that there is an ambitious group of space explorers planning to colonize Mars within a decade or so. That sounds really awesome when you say it out loud, like the whole Buck Rogers thing is finally happening.

And space exploration is commonplace for me. Man landed on the Moon a few years before I was born and by the time I was in middle school, we were flying to space, landing on the Earth and flying back again in the same space craft. To consider the technological obstacles that need to be addressed to establish a colony on Mars, one marvels at the capacity for human achievement. Yep, there's a lot of resources, brain power and problem solving involved with colonizing Mars. But here's a small suggestion: Um, potholes?

How about fix a road first? Not long after Man set foot on the Moon, people lamented the lack of progress toward fixing comparatively simple problems on Earth by saying, "they can put a man on the Moon, but they can't..." fix said problem. I can hear it now–they can put a man on Mars but they can't fix a road.

Not that Mars isn't awesome. I mean, our Mars colony will finally allow us to cure cancer. No...wait, I mean, end world hunger, or, no...I mean, world peace will finally...wait, that's not it...oh I know...no. OK, aside from being cool, a colony on Mars is pointless. I mean, so long as we have crummy roads. And we have crummy roads, believe me. Or, you know what, don't believe me. Believe, instead, the ASCE, the American Society of Civil Engineers–you know, the people who spend their lives designing safe structures to benefit all mankind? Our grade from the ASCE on our nation's 600,000-plus bridges is a C+. Super. Our bridges are like Oklahoma. They aren't awesome, great or excellent. They are, however, OK.

Any bridge you drive on anywhere in this country is probably flawed in some way. It's a comforting thought when you're 100 feet over a major body of water or a 300-foot deep canyon, yes? At least bridges can take their grade home to mom and dad. Sure, ma and pa bridge will be disappointed but not angry. Our roadways, on the other hand, have a grade of D+. Mmm, the plus makes it seem not as horrible somehow. Our roads now have the same grade as the kid in the back of the room–long, unkempt hair, Metallica t-shirt, chain going from his belt loop to his wallet. Yep, that's what we drive on for roads. That's what we are now as a nation–land of the free, home of the brave and kings of the pass/no pass course.

Certainly some good will come of colonizing Mars–won't it? Maybe? But it's good to know that here on Earth, we will be driving on minimally acceptable roads leading us across bridge that may or may not collapse. And what's more exhilarating than bridge Russian roulette?

It makes me wonder if explorers in the past faced the same questions. Were there people in the 15th and 16th Centuries walking around France, England and Spain thinking, they can put a man in the New World, but they can't fix these cobblestones? Hmm, now that I think of it, if our roads were paved with cobblestones today, our grade from the ASCE would probably improve.

Deep in the Heart

I saw a picture posted recently of Houston Texans' receiver Andre Johnson. He was in a Toys 'R Us holding a receipt–that was about ten feet long–for nearly $18,000 worth of toys, which he promptly donated for distribution among needy Houston-area children. It's something he's done since becoming a NFL player and something other high-profile people do this time each year.

And being Andre Johnson is not a requirement. There is a city council member who has organized a toy drive for many years for our town's needy children. All of this goes on without mention of the efforts of Toys for Tots, those bell ringers with the Salvation Army, food drives by postal carriers and many similar efforts during the holidays.

Certainly many of these people or groups are motivated by having been the less fortunate person at some point in their life or simply understand, as a person with much to be grateful for, that it really is better to give than receive. Indeed, I haven't always been in a position to help others, but I try to when I can. Still, my aid power is nothing compared to Johnson's capacity. And so it is with so many regular people like me. But Johnson is part of a more powerful club.

Through his given ability, hard work and good fortune, he's in a position to buy $18,000 in toys for kids and that level of spending is hardly something to bat an eye at for someone in his economic standing. But Andre Johnson is just one player. He's not alone in his benevolence, but consider if ten guys from each team did the same. That's 300 guys from the NFL. And the other major leagues–MLB, NBA and NHL. Now we're up to 1,200 dudes. That's $360,000 in toys–just from pro athletes.

Then there's musicians, actors and dudes from India that recently bought the Sacramento Kings, for example. That stack of toys could easily reach a million bucks or more. That's a lot of Christmas (or December, gift-based holiday of your choosing) smiles.

And then there's the rest of us. Houston, where Johnson plays football, is one of the most affluent regions in the country. People of the non-NFL player variety in Houston could easily match Johnson's generosity. And in New York. And Boston. And Los Angeles. And Chicago. And...OK, OK, you get the point. Look, if 1 out of every 3 people in the US donated a dollar to some cause, that's about $100 million. Our buying power, even as non-athletes, actors or dot-com tycoons, is pretty massive.

But why should I have to help? That's what I can already hear some people asking me. You don't. I don't care if you do or not. In fact, not helping others in need makes me happy. It helps me see people as they really are. Taking action like he did says something about Andre Johnson. Not following his lead says something even bigger about you. And that's a valuable piece of information to have from my point of view.

"As it was in the beginning, so it shall be in the end..." Uh oh...the ghostly words of Marley. You should probably be concerned.

Playoffs, you kidding me?

Now that the college bowl match-ups are set, some people are looking past this year to next year when we throw out the BCS and welcome the long-awaited college football playoffs. Except, like most things the NCAA creates these days, it's an imperfect solution. The plan coming next season still won't resolve lingering issues created by the BCS and that's because the playoff (wink, wink) is merely the BCS with a fake mustache on.

The playoff format pits the top four ranked teams against one another in semi-final match-ups, with the winners of those two games playing for the championship. That seems fair enough until you realize the BCS standings make no sense. They never have and that isn't going to change in the future. Consider the most recent BCS standings and how that shapes up for a theoretical playoff. Michigan State and Florida State would play, with the winner playing for the title against the winner of the Auburn/Alabama game. Mmm, enticing match-up.

Except, what the hell is Alabama doing in the equation? Auburn, Florida State and Michigan State are all conference champions. Alabama isn't, by virtue of their absence in the SEC championship game, one of the top two teams in the SEC. Stanford, another conference champion, meanwhile, is ranked fifth and would not be part of the playoff picture. Seems legit. Three conference champions and a third place team in the playoffs while another conference champion goes to the Salad Bowl or the Cereal Bowl or whatever. But Stanford probably couldn't beat Alabama anyway. I mean, forget the fact Stanford's strength is the very thing that helped Auburn beat Alabama.

And that's just the point. Winning a conference championship seems to count for very little in the rankings. Five of the seven computer polls have Stanford ranked fourth or better. It's the two human polls that cause Stanford's demise–and there's plenty of evidence that humans and polls mixed together often produce horrendous results.

Let's forget, for a second, that Alabama not only didn't win a title, they didn't win (or even play in) a game and improved their position in the polls. I'd be a billionaire by now if you could improve your standing by doing nothing. South Carolina, meanwhile, beat a top-ranked team–convincingly, I might add–and went down in the rankings. The Gamecocks won as many SEC banners as Alabama did this season, played a game last week (unlike the Tide), won it and went down in the rankings. As my pal Jim Mora would say, you kidding me? Playoffs? More comically than that, Clemson, the team South Carolina beat in that final game improved in the rankings after their loss. Winning makes you go down, losing makes you go up and not playing is the best thing of all. Funny, I don't remember going through a looking glass.

And that's not the only screwy thing happening with teams named "USC." The one in Southern California is the weirdest of all. USC–the Trojans one, not the Gamecocks one–was previously unranked in the BCS standings. Last week, they lost 35-14 to UCLA, they hired a new coach, had their interim coach quit in disgust, leaving USC with yet another interim coach to finish the season AND YET broke into the BCS rankings for the first time all year. Now that's a Trojan horse maneuver if ever there was one.

So go ahead. Be giddy for the playoffs. But just know, as a college football fan, you'll probably still be befuddled because the new playoffs will be as senseless as the BCS until such time as the BCS rankings make any logical sense at all. Ha–winning is losing and losing is winning! What is this anyway? Wall Street banking?

Rules are like bones

I was a big fan of pro wrestling when I was a kid. I mean, as a young boy and therefore angry and destructive, what's not to like about picking up a metal chair and smacking some guy in the noggin with it? And the theatrics? The entry music, the wardrobe, the pyrotechnics. How is a boy supposed to resist?

Inevitably, some villain dude would stand in front of a microphone and explain, in his villainous tones and logic, how rules and bones were made to be broken. Grr, yeah! Except, no, you know–I mean, like sort of the opposite is true. In my extensive–oh so extensive–experience with broken bones, I find the broken bone is very often accompanied by mind-blistering pain and several weeks of utter inactivity to the injured area. That tends to suggest to me that, in fact, bones are very much made to remain intact.

So I assume the same is true for rules. And here is my rules confession: I am a rules dork. I have managed and interpreted rules of different types on a number of different occasions in my professional life. I know what the rules are, how they are worded and how officials are taught to interpret rules. As such, when I watch sports on TV and yell, "that's holding," what I'm really thinking is, "according to Rule 3, chapter 2, paragraph 1, line B, that's holding!" And the announcers try to buffer things, diffuse the situation–looks like the Steelers might have gotten away with holding, they'll say. Indeed, it is often very difficult to see the one and only thing you are looking for when it's 15 feet from where you are standing.

But I understand that. There's a lot of chaos on a football field. I get that officials can't see everything. But the announcers always go too far. OK, so they missed one. It happens. But then the announcers at some point will chime in, after a team or teams "might have gotten away with one" several times in a game with, "looks like they're really letting them play out there." What? No! Their job isn't to 'let them play out there.'  Their job is to enforce rules violations. They can 'play out there' without officials. The whole point of them being there is to enforce the rules.

"Well, the Seahawks," one announcer claimed, "are gonna keep doing that because it's not likely the officials are going to call it every time..." What the... Why not? It's against the rules–holding, pass interference, whatever–it's against the rules. You gain an advantage by doing it, which is why it's against the rules. Not once. Always. If you hold on the first play of the game, the second play, the third play and each of the first forty plays and the officials see it, their job is to call it–not five times, not eight, not twelve but 40 times.

And the excuses for not doing it that way are stupid. We wouldn't live in society that way. Well, I don't want to arrest the guy for driving drunk every single time...it bogs things down and drags the game out. Try this: don't hold. That'll speed the game up.

They're playing this like a playoff game, an announcer said. They're letting a lot of this stuff go. No! You can't. It's your job to not let it go. And in the playoffs? Playoffs, don't talk about playoffs. You kidding me? Playoffs? That's when it's the MOST important to see everything and call everything. You're trying to crown a champion, the best in the league, the most talented, the team that can execute best, not a team that can get caught the least breaking the rule meant to instill fairness into the game. 

Because this is what you get under those circumstances: "Wow, Steve Smith just got clotheslined going over the middle and no call." Amazing. And don't get me started on the word clothesline in games involving the New Orleans Saints...

Wage war

I've seen some stuff on TV recently where people are protesting for more wages in front of Wal Mart. Fast food workers have even gotten into the protest mood and started demanding higher wages. It always seems like this sort of thing happens somewhere else, Ohio or something. The other day, there was a crowd of people gathered in front of the Wal Mart in my town. They had signs, megaphones, chants. I even noticed a number of people walk through the parking lot, see the protest and leave.

The whole scene made me kind of happy. The issue with Wal Mart is irrelevant to me. What made me happy was that people actually cared about stuff. In the decade before I was born, the world was full of a sense of "War, huuh, good God, y'all..." and when I was in high school, people still wanted to "fight the power." Now, it seems like things are, "War, huuh... yeah, could you move a bit? I'm trying to watch Real Housewives of Beverly Hills..." That people still care enough to stand for something was encouraging to see. We are, after all, a country built on telling people in charge to go stick it. It also made me happy to see other people walk away. There weren't too many picket lines in my childhood–after all, I didn't grow up in the 30s–but when there were, my dad, a lifelong union member, always respected them. It's not his fight, but his willingness to stand out of the way of those wanting more for themselves always stuck with me.

So the argument these days is over raising the minimum wage. Can the workers live on the current minimum wage? Do they even deserve more? What will this do to the companies that have to pay these wages?

Few people have argued the workers can adequately live on the current wage. I'm not sure what kind of egotistical jackass you have to be to argue whether someone deserves whatever wages they make. I mean, it's called a minimum wage. Companies pay it because that's the least they are required to. They'd pay less if they could. You deserve $5 an hour...I'm paying you $8...stupid federal law!! Do they deserve it. What an argument. As for the companies, they will bear an additional expense. They always do with everything. Gas isn't 29 cents a gallon last I checked. The price of stuff goes up. So businesses adapt or die. But what if they do die, you ask? As Ivan Drago said in the 1985 classic, Rocky IV, "if he dies, he dies." Go cry on the shoulder of the ice truck company, the milk man and the dude that makes beta max video tapes.

Many of the business analysts on the 24-hour news channels have made all sorts of claims of the economic ramifications of increasing the minimum wage. The problem is, yea verily, while economics is a social science, there is nothing remotely scientific about it. Real science done by scientists for scientific reasons using science focuses on the elimination of variables. Here's the control; here's the control plus one change; here's the outcome; it is, ergo, highly likely the change is causing the new condition. You can't do that in economics. There are no certainties in social sciences because the variables are too plentiful.

With that, there is one certainty that the pundits have kicked around I disagree with. I'll leave the debate over whether raising the minimum wage will cause a black hole to swallow the Earth or not, but one thing I know won't happen–to any great degree, anyway–is the cost of the increase will be shifted to consumers. This is a consumer-driven economy. You can shift the cost of a Happy Meal to consumers but at a certain price-point, they'll stop paying. Your sales will plummet and you can then go commiserate with the encyclopedia salesman and elevator operator. "OK, here's your Happy Meal... that'll be 10 bucks!" There's a conversation you'll never hear.

Companies will instead have to shift the costs elsewhere. However, if they cut costs on maintenance, infrastructure or health and safety then they are likely to be shut down by health inspectors or people simply won't want to eat in a poorly kept up, dirty restaurant. Sales plummet and you commiserate with...well, you get the idea.

So maybe shareholders will have to eat the cost. And maybe they'll get ticked and sell their shares. Yep, probably. But as they are also consumers, that's their right to do so.

But then maybe the workers who don't work hard and do a good job will lose those jobs to better workers. The companies, do in fact, retain their right to fire bad workers and hire better ones. And so maybe customer service standards improve and productivity increases and that attracts more customers willing to pay a bit more for the product and maybe profits increase and shareholders don't sell their stakes. Interesting.

And here's an additional interesting fact. Increased wages serve to strengthen the consumer class. More consumers with more income rubs off in a positive way on all types of businesses. They'll buy more TVs, more cars, more cell phones, more clothes and, indeed, more hamburgers. And will some companies collapse? Probably. But companies that can't adapt to change are weak and destined to fail at some point anyway, right Eastern Airlines? And those companies aren't good for the overall economy anyway.

So when you see the picket signs the next time you contemplate what number value meal to order, just remember, "it's 1, 2, 3, what are we fighting for..."

School daze

Nelson Mandela once said, "education is the most powerful weapon which you can use to change the world." If that's true, the United States is heading forward into the future unarmed. The Program for International Student Assessment (PISA) recently released annual test results and the news remains bad for the United States. Overall, the US ranked 36th. Certainly the results could have been better, but before you think 36th isn't too bad for a world with nearly 200 countries, understand that the PISA scores only compare 64 countries. That means we didn't even finish in the top half of the results. Woo hoo–USA, USA, U..s..um...yeah.

Just about every country you can think of in Asia–China, Japan, Korea, etc.–and Europe–Finland, France, Germany, etc.–ranked ahead of us. There are reasons people can cite as to why. The education systems in many Asian countries, for instance, are more stringent, with a longer school day and a longer school year. And in Europe there's perhaps not as much poverty or racial diversity, which is a challenge we face in the US that other countries don't. But in the sports world, we like to call all of these things excuses. Cite whatever you want. We suck. Period. And notice I didn't say our education system sucks. We suck. It's our responsibility. Part of the problem is we collectively blame a group of professionals in the industry without owning any of the utter shame and embarrassment we should all feel by these results.

What's worse is our ability to fix the problem. Every elementary school in my town has a Smart Board in every classroom. Google it if you don't know what I mean. They're pretty cool. We've made class sizes smaller. Built in API standards to measure progress. We've tried not to leave any child behind. We've given ourselves a head start and gotten ourselves hooked on phonics. Through all of this, our PISA scores have not improved AT ALL in the last decade. That's who we are now? The TV, the computer, the airplane, the light bulb and the Post-It note... we came up with all of that; the Miracle on Ice, won the war to end all wars, put a man on the moon–and are still the only country to do so–transplanted a mechanical heart into a dude...who lived afterward...and yet we can't figure out how to improve our education system. Amazing.

As a reporter, I covered schools and school issues extensively. I don't know what the exact cause of the problem is but I know in large part what it's not. The problem doesn't generally exist in the classroom. I know, you've seen Stand and Deliver and Dangerous Minds, but most classrooms in most schools in most places aren't F-bombs and knife fights. The students are reasonably engaged and generally pretty smart. And the teachers are not the problem, either. The number of "bad" teachers is pretty low. So, smart kids and good teachers–what's the problem then?

The kids learn what they are taught. And the teachers teach what they're told to. The process of education, overall, is "here are the things you're expected to know, so know them." Albert Einstein once said, "education isn't the learning of facts, it is the training of the mind to think." The US education system is a "learning of facts" model. In places like Finland, for instance, theirs is a "training of the mind" model.

Our system–Smart Boards not withstanding–is also out of date. Teacher in front of a chalk board, students in desks, lecture, scribble notes. That's how it is today, when I was in school, when my parents were in school and how they taught the kids on the wholesome family-drama Little House on the Prairie. The seven-year old in my house can do Google searches and play videos on Hulu. But he goes to school and learns in the same way Aristotle's students did. It's not what we teach in the classrooms that needs to change, but how we teach. One of the news stories about these results featured a photo with school kids in a classroom, framed by a globe in the foreground. A globe! Kids can view the Earth on a computer using pictures derived from a satellite in space. A globe? Honestly!

And one more area to look at is administration. I don't mean principals and vice principals. I mean people that get elected and appointed to "fix" the mess. The process of administration of education in this country is a total example of "too many cooks spoil the broth." And administrators are expensive. Really expensive. Picketing teachers demanding a pay raise aren't the cause of educational expense. The ten-fold overkill of administrators making six-figure salaries is. Chop costs there and you can raise salaries, buy more technology for classrooms and still save taxpayer money. Except the people making those decisions are the administrators themselves. But if "We, the People," want better test results, we're the ones that need to fix the problem, not them. Of course, it's possible we just enjoy being in 36th place. Hmm, gold, silver, bronze...what is the medal for 36th made of anyway? Balsa wood? Hooray us!

Syntax error

Writers are professionals. In the same way doctors and lawyers and firefighters and police officers are trained with, as the film Taken explained, a particular set of skills, writers are trained professionals. It's irritating, as a result, to see companies hiring for writers and offering the lowest amount of wages possible. Not everyone can do what trained writers can. I'm reminded of that daily by postings on Facebook and other social forums.

A girl posted something recently, for instance, stating another girl "probably Dosent even know..." Mmm, yes. Speaking of doesn't know...and never mind the awkward, mid-sentence capitalization. But the girl with this post shouldn't feel bad... or is it Shoodint? I've seen problems like this in stuff produced by people seeking writers. Wanted: writers, the ad reads. It goes on to explain the details with a number of errors included. Indeed. I'll say you need writers. Post haste! I even saw some errors like that in a form for a writing contest. Yes, very good. Send your work to us. We will judge it worthy of this cash reward, yet, clearly, we aren't the best writers ourselves.

And I don't consider myself a "grammar Nazi," either. Notice, for instance, how I started that last sentence with the word and? You can do that, by the way. Your elementary teacher taught it to you wrong. There are plenty of people that bristle over minor grammar flaws–like the fact I just wrote "people that" a moment ago–but I'm not one of those. But I do rip my hair out over things like Dosent. I mean, really? Why not just go full Phoenician and write Duzint?

And that girl, the one you hire to answer phones and file folders–which is a perfectly fine job, by the way–she has the same basic pay structure as the people you are hiring to shape your corporate communications plan? Wow. Here's another way to look at it: Think about the most inspiring things you've heard a leader say. "Mr. Gorbachev, tear down this wall..." Or if you prefer, "We chose to do these things not because they are easy but because they are hard." Insert another of your choice. Man, moves you emotionally, doesn't it? But Reagan, Kennedy and other great leaders spoke inspirational and uplifting words–that were written...by writers.  Kennedy, for instance, will suggest things to focus on, take certain sentences out, suggest a different word, but it's ultimately the job of a skilled, trained writer to pick all the words out.

Think of any great message in human history. The Constitution was written. The Magna Carta was written. The BIBLE was written for crying out loud. We hold these truths to be self evident... the girl that made that Facebook posting "probably Dosent even know" what that means.

Yet there are people out there seeking professional writers and they can't discern the difference between her and a real professional and, to borrow once again from Taken, that makes those HR people, "a nightmare for people" like me. But maybe I'm wrong. Maybe those other professions I mentioned have it the same way. What are your qualifications to join the police force? Well, I don't know anything about self defense, tactical movements, weapons training, interrogation techniques or the penal code. I used to play cops and robbers in school, though. Boom. You're hired.

And the winner is...

I hate the BCS. Let me start with that, in the interest of full disclosure. But it's what we have to work with and I, like you, am interested in who the next national champion in college football will be. The current BCS standings came out today and the list of candidates for a BCS title game berth is shorter and shorter.

Atop the list is Florida State. The Seminoles have just two hurdles in their way of a BCS title shot: Hurdle number one is beat the Duke Blue Devils. Duke is an underdog by nearly 30 points, so...yeah. The next hurdle is keep Jameis Winston from being arrested. I don't know what the state of the ridiculously slow investigation related to a potential sexual assault is, but investigators in the case should, as my pops would say, do something "or get off the pot."

Ohio State has an equally easy to understand path to the BCS championship game. Their path involves beating Michigan State in the Big 10 title game. I don't mean winning the football game, I mean beating them. Pummel them with fists, sticks, rocks, whatever. That's their thing now. The Ohio State Blackeyes...that's their new nickname. 

If Ohio State loses that game or, OK, OK, if a team named after the Devil can somehow beat Florida State, then things get really interesting. The next three teams in line are from the SEC. If one of the other teams loses and #3 Auburn wins the SEC championship game, they will have an opportunity to invoke the NCAA's "SEC champion automatically goes to the national championship game no matter what" clause. If #5 Missouri beats Auburn in the SEC championship game, they likely won't go to the title game. They aren't one of the SEC's marquee brands–Alabama, Auburn, LSU and Florida–and thus can't invoke the SEC champion clause. I know, you're thinking Auburn is better than Alabama, Missouri is better than Auburn, ergo, Missouri deserves a shot at the BCS banner, but that's using deductive reasoning, which has no place in the BCS picture. 

If Missouri wins and either Ohio State or Florida State loses, Alabama will advance to the BCS championship. Don't think it will be the first time a team that didn't win their conference still went to the BCS title game because it isn't. But how can a team that isn't the best team in its own conference lay claim to being the best team in the country, you ask? There's that stupid deductive reasoning again!

And you need not go further than Missouri. Oklahoma State and Stanford have a none percent shot at the BCS championship. They could win their respective conference championship games by 900 points and not get chosen, even if all of the teams ahead of them lose–which is impossible, but we've established the fact that logic has no place in the BCS. Based on recent BCS formulations, beating teams like USC, UCLA and Arizona State or Baylor, Texas Tech and Oklahoma is only slightly better than beating high school teams. I mean, aside from producing the occassional Adrian Peterson or Aaron Rodgers, I'm not sure why the Pac 12 and Big 12 are even conferences in the BCS's eyes. 

Best case scenario: Florida State and Ohio State both win AND avoid criminal charges and meet in the championship game. Worst case: Both lose, Auburn and Missouri play to a scoreless tie and Alabama is crowned the champion by default because, let's face it, the third best team in the SEC could beat Oklahoma State and Stanford combined, right?

Urban blight

There were a lot of rivalry games played this week in college football. Many of the games resulted in dramatic conclusions in the final seconds of play. Overall, the rivalry play this week was the exact sort of thing people watch college football for.

There was one minor flaw in this perfect scene, however. During the Michigan-Ohio State game, a fight broke out following a kickoff return. It's not terribly unusual. Skirmishes like that happen from time to time during ordinary football games. Add the rivalry element and it's no wonder a scrap like this happens periodically.

But the Michigan-Ohio State fight was a bit more involved than most. In one of the more incredible, highly competitive, exciting games of the storied rivalry, the fight is about all anyone is talking about today. Part of the reason there is ongoing discussion about the fight is because Ohio State still has the Big 10 Championship game and possible BCS Championship game ahead of them. "Are you concerned," the sideline reporter asked Ohio State head coach Urban Meyer, "the Big 10 might take further action?" The players involved in the fight were ejected and there was some question as to whether or not the conference would allow them to play in the Big 10 title game. "It's disappointing," Meyer said. Not in part. That was his whole comment about the fight, focusing instead on enjoying the victory over Michigan.

Fair enough. It's a big rivalry win. You deserve to enjoy the win. But if Urban Meyer lets the Big 10 take action against his players, that will be really "disappointing." That is to say, he should be the one to take action. Getting into a fight is not a really big deal. It happens in sports from time to time. But how you handle yourself afterward is a big deal. Upon being ejected from the game, Ohio State guard Marcus Hall–who came off the bench to join the fracas–slammed his helmet to the turf, walked into the tunnel leading to the locker room, flipping the bird with each hand to the Michigan fans. Must have been a 2-for-1 Black Friday special.

Now you'll be able to find out what kind of coach and person Urban Meyer really is. He will either do nothing at all and therefore show himself to be interested only in winning or he will suspend Hall for the remainder of the season and prove he's the kind of coach that stands on values, delivering a clear message that Ohio State and its football program don't stand for coming off the bench to join a brawl, slamming helmets and flipping people off in utter classlessness.

So for all the talk coaches give about building men, developing character, representing community and the university, we'll see how strongly Meyer believes in that notion. Or is he simply obsessed with winning, building the Urban Meyer brand and constructing his own legacy. You'll know as soon as you find out what action he takes with Hall.

Give that man a cigar!

It's Thanksgiving today. Most people will spend part of the day expressing their thankfulness for their family, maybe their home, their children. I'm certainly thankful for those things, but one thing I'm also thankful for are sports.

I have known lots of people who have thought my love of sports to be something of an excuse to whittle away the days perched on a couch in front of a TV. Indeed, I'll certainly watch some basketball and football at some point today–even go to the park and maybe throw the football around a bit. But when a job listing claims to want team-players that are dedicated, focused, success-oriented and goal-driven, where do you learn all of that stuff? In Advanced Business? Micro Economics? I learned it by being involved in sports.

And since we're on the subject of sports and thankfulness, I'm thankful for the news I read today. For the first time since Communists took over, Cuba has lifted their ban on allowing their players to play professionally overseas. As a baseball fan, this is an amazing piece of news. While I might not like Yasiel Puig–for being a Dodger, as a Giants fan–I will admit to his obvious talent level. Players like Yoenis Cespedes with the A's and Aroldis Chapman with the Reds are further proof there are few mediocre Cubans already in the MLB. I have to imagine there are dozens more players just like them stranded in Cuba–until now. And the thought that every team could have a player like Cespedes? Holy smokes.

And that's just baseball. Cuban fighters could breathe some much (much) needed life into the sport of boxing. Boxing has, uh, taken it on the chin a bit with the advancing popularity of MMA. But as there are loads of talented baseball players in Cuba, baseball isn't the country's top sport in terms of talent. Boxing sorely needs an introduction of Cuban talent. Certainly other sports will benefit in the long run as well.

And when hundreds of new Cuban millionaires return to their native country and help enrich their communities, as many other players have, that can only make Cuba stronger in the future. Hopefully all of this will one day strengthen diplomatic ties between the U.S. and Cuba. Just as the collapse of Soviet oppression helped major sports around the world, this new move by Cuba will do the same. But that's not the most important thing. In my lifetime, the Berlin Wall was toppled, this ban from Cuba was lifted and we started diplomatic discussions with Iran of all places. If that's the trend in world politics as my life continues and the only thing we have to fight about is whether or not a batted ball was fair or foul...that's the thing I'm most of all thankful for. 

No news is good news

I spent most of my professional life as a journalist. At one point in history, that might have meant something important. Sports writers, like me, vote on inductees to various halls of fame because, in the days before YouTube and SportsCenter, they were often the only ones who had seen most every big league player perform and could compare them to one another.

That's not true anymore. I don't need a beat writer to explain who the better Heisman candidate is. I've seen Jordan Lynch play. I've seen Marcus Mariota and Johnny Manziel and Jameis Winston. I can formulate my own opinion. Same with politics. Same with crime and punishment. And war correspondents? It used to be you'd believe Edward R Murrow because he was the one being bombed nightly in the blitz, not you. But now you can watch war on TV. Our correspondents are the actual weapons themselves. Want an up-close look at the enemy compound? Strap a camera to a missile and away we go.

So it's no wonder fewer and fewer people are turning to newspapers for the news. That situation is spilling over into TV, as well. TV audiences, with the growth of Hulu, Netflix and other streaming video services, are dwindling. But the TV news isn't helping its own cause.

It's bad enough the local paper can't run a sports story without using the word 'romp' or run a series of briefs with a photo unrelated to any of them, now the TV news is getting into the 'what the hell does that have to do with anything' act.

TV is visual, so TV news casts tend to favor strongly visual stories. Oops, I mean 'stories.' Look, a brush fire. Wow, check out this flood ten states away from here. Man, look at the snow–at this ski area, of all places. It's not a story, it's just something to look at. The news isn't just stuff that's happening, there should be some sort of impact on your audience. Why does a bush fire in the Australian Outback matter to us? Sure, a disaster like Typhoon Haiyan is significant enough that there might be locals impacted or that we might all want to donate to help people far away, but 'holy smokes, it's snowing in the winter time' isn't news. Why not have a 'this just in, the sun rises this morning' segment?

Recently, our top-rated news station ran a three minute–I say again, a three minute– segment on the upcoming broadcast of The Voice. OK, I get that it's a directive from the network to promote prime time shows, but you spent 10 percent of your broadcast–with a "throw" to Hollywood for a live report, no less–on an upcoming broadcast of a random TV show!?! Coming up next, the weather, but first, how safe is America's power grid? Find out tonight on the hit series, Revolution. Speaking of weather, The Voice segment was longer than the weather. Yes, hundreds of thousands of people traveling for Thanksgiving. Why would the weather matter to them? What's really important is who's going to make it to top six and is Team Cee Lo still alive? Walter Cronkite's soul disintegrated a little just now.

It reminded me of a scene from The Simpsons. At a book festival, Lisa stands up to give an interpretation of the Joy Luck Club. Amy Tan's reply back to Lisa is the same one I so often get when watching the news on TV these days: "I can't believe how wrong you got it. Sit down. I'm embarrassed for both of us." Now, here's Chuck, with a look at sports. 

Not Offensive

I can't take it anymore. Can someone, anyone, teach the players in the NBA how to score? Granted, there have been a number of games this season where the losing team has scored more than 100 points, but it's not good enough.

The number of teams scoring 90 or fewer points a night is still too high. Last week, the Chicago Bulls scored 86 points in a game...and won. A few nights later, Boston scored 82 and Brooklyn scored 81. The following night, the Utah Jazz scored 73 followed by 72 from the Milwaukee Bucks–which isn't the first time in this young season the Bucks have scored in the 70s. Where's Jack Sikma when you need him?

I'm beginning to think the NBA stands for "No Baskets Allowed." And believe me, it's the poor shooting and scoring, not the splendid defense being played that is the root of the problem.

High school basketball games are three-quarters as long as NBA games. In this country, on a nightly basis, I'd bet there are 500 high school teams that score 80 or more points. Earlier this season, the Grizzlies beat the Warriors, 88-81...in overtime, for crying out loud.

Yes, but the high school players are playing against–you know what? Stop. High school kids are playing against kids of their caliber. NBA players are playing against other NBA players. NBA teams need to score just over 22 points a quarter to score 90 points. Two three-pointers, five free throws and six field goals–boom, 23 points. That's too much to ask in 12 minutes? I've supervised 40+ drop-in leagues where they can score six shots in 12 minutes.

To rearrange a famous quote from 12 Angry Men, I know it's possible, but is it probable? The Mavericks beat the Houston Rockets in a recent game, 123-120. One of the teams scored at least 30 points in each of the four quarters. How hard is that? Judging from recent scores, pretty hard I guess.  I know a jump shot is a lot harder than a lob-pass dunk, but if you just set your mind to it... believe it and achieve it. For the love of God, please achieve it.

Slow Draw McGraw

"The quick and the dead–you're either one or the other..."

I applied for a job. Not recently. A long time ago. It was 94 days ago...and counting. On the website where you apply with this particular company, you can log in and check the job status. I logged in recently. The job is still open. The place is still taking resumes, still reviewing candidates and, perhaps one day, will hire someone. Certainly, whoever the person is, will not be the best possible candidate.

How could it be? Other companies are hiring, too. Nobody applies to just one job at a time. The people applying to Job A are the same ones applying to Job B. And C. And D. And E. Yet, you wait a month, two months, three months and on and on. Why? To ensure you get the thirtieth best person for the job? This is a competitive job market for job seekers and employers. If you are waiting three or more months to hire a person for a vacancy, you are sure to have an entire staff, one day, comprised of nothing but sub-standard workers.

Why, for example, if you had the fifth pick in the draft, would you wait until the twenty-seventh pick–of the fourth round–to make your choice? Just because there are a lot of workers in the market right now doesn't mean there is a lot of talent.  Good, and even great, employees are getting snatched up by more nimble companies and you're going to get what's left over. That's how you prepare your organization for a competitive future? The other companies are taking top ten draft picks and you're signing throw away rejects. Hmm, what's going to happen when your two teams compete against one another?

Like the quote from Shawshank Redemption, you either get busy living, or you get busy dying–except in the case of business, you get busy hiring or get busy dying. Filling your staff with C+ workers is a sure path to demise.

But being slow on the draw isn't an HR department's only flaw. They also hamper themselves by checking things like a credit report. Really? That's you as a GM of a sports team: Hey, we have a chance to sign LeBron James...yeah, but have seen his credit score?

Not to worry. If you can't sign LeBron James, I'm sure you can wait and sign Reggie Evans in 3-4 months. NBA title, here we come!

Uniform Code

I gorged myself on football. I started yesterday with a game between Nebraska and Penn State and topped it off with the Washington-Oregon State game, with as many games sandwiched in between as I could find.

This isn't a shocking piece of news in terms of my tolerance. In fact, I'm about to watch a little more football today and even more on Monday. It's been a while since I've had the time to just sit and watch games all day, so it was kind of nice. Now that the college season is winding down, I've started thinking about what's in store next year–players leaving early, new coaches, teams switching conferences, incoming recruits, perhaps a rule change or two.

Watching college football this season has made me think of one other change I'd like to see. Is it too much trouble to pick a set of uniforms and stick with them? Chrome? Really? The gold-inlaid, mirror finished, diamond-played helmets are pretty ridiculous. And black. Every damn team has a black version of their uniform–even schools whose school colors are white and off white have a black version. And Oregon, with the 47 shades of yellow, 29 shades of green, black, gray, white–what's next, take the field with numbers painted on their backs for their "clear" uniforms. Hmm, shouldn't have given the Nike designers any ideas.

More and more teams have started dressing in bizarre alternative jerseys, except I hesitate to call them alternative because so many teams have some many variations I don't even know what the standard uniform is. That's the whole idea of a uniform. There's a certain element of, I don't know, uniformity to it. It's not enough to look like each other. There's a level of consistency involved. Thank God for that Nebraska-Penn State game. The same uniforms as last week, the week before and the last 40 years.

I get it, though. The uniform variations are an expression of team values, of the school's mission, which is to get every last dollar out of their supporters as possible. I mean, Nebraska fans don't buy the Mauve or Lavender or Maize or Stainless Steel uniform tops because they don't exist. But if you love the Oregon Ducks and don't have all 914 uniform tops they wear, how can you really call yourself a fan? Poser! You make me sick.

And forget about the benefits to the student body. Division I college football teams have 85 scholarship players–multiplied by $500 (on the cheap), multiplied by four alternate looks equals about $170,000. Over the course of a four-year college career, that's more than a half a million dollars. At least the rest of the student-body has to pay higher tuition fees, though. Fair enough. I mean, the most any University of Oregon graduate ever did was start the largest employer in the State of Oregon that designs ridiculous uniforms for their sports teams, build a basketball arena and is one of the school's largest donors. I mean, why should everyday students reap any kind of special treatment?

But never mind all of that. Isn't it easy enough to just remind these teams they are supposedly football players and not performers in the Nutcracker? You're supposed to embody the spirit of toughness, gritty determination. You should love adversity, snow, ice, rain, mud, cuts, scrapes, bruises. The words of warfare litter the sport–the blitz, the bomb, a field general, marching troops down the field. And yet, here you are, week after week, taking the field looking like a piece of ribbon candy. Manly. Very manly.

Hip Czech

I've rediscovered my joy for hockey this year. I'm not really sure why, but I've been watching more and more games this season and I'm starting to remember everything I originally liked about the sport.

When I was younger, I got into hockey to check out this "Great Gretzky" dude. This was in the days prior to the San Jose Sharks, so there wasn't much local coverage of the sport, to say the least. Thanks to the emergence of cable TV, I was able to eventually unearth some Edmonton Oilers games. And man, were those Oiler teams amazing. There was a collection of soon-to-be Hall of Fame players on the team and the high level of play made understanding the game really easy.

Sure, as a California native who had snow fall on his head exactly twice in his life to that point, there were still some things that took time. Icing. I mean, the game is played on ice. Aren't you always icing the puck? And offsides. I don't get it. I still don't. I get the rule, but not the purpose. Dude is too far ahead of everyone else. So? Can you imagine basketball without the fastbreak?

But watching Gretzky as a 12-year old was like listening to Jimi Hendrix for the first time. There was what everyone else was doing and then "who the hell is this guy?!" Michael Jordan not withstanding, I don't think I've seen a player single-handedly dominate his sport the way Gretzky did. Game after game–sometimes shift after shift–Gretzky would make a play and I'd think, "how in the living name of Zeus did he do that?" I immediately wanted to learn more and more about the sport so I could more deeply appreciate Gretzky's incomprehensible skill.

At length, the San Jose Sharks were formed and hockey started appearing locally on TV with more frequency. I instantly felt superior as I was far ahead of the learning curve most newly christened Sharks fans were experiencing. My sports loves were baseball and football in first, then basketball, then hockey. By the time the Sharks were born, basketball and hockey were tied.

At some point, because of games falling off the ESPN map and an occasional work stoppage, my interest in hockey waned. I didn't think much of it at first. It was a star-crossed lovers thing, I thought. Hockey and a kid from California–we're not meant to be together. We're from different worlds. They don't even sell Molson or Labatt's in my grocery store.

But this year, for some reason, I've started watching hockey with more regularity. And I'm happy. I've had time to remember why I liked it in the first place. Part of that rediscovery has been the play of Sharks rookie Tomas Hertl (say it like you're trying to silence someone...Toma-shhhh). Just search YouTube for Tomas Hertl, New York Rangers and you'll see what I mean. Hertl certainly isn't the best player for the Sharks and I by no means mean to compare him to Gretzky. However, there is a bit of flair and style in his game that makes you remember the game is fun and it's played by really skilled athletes.

Here's an example: Hockey is played on a slippery surface, with guys wearing footwear that consists of a thin blade, carrying sticks and playing against people trying to knock them over. They can skate nearly as fast backwards as forwards and move as efficiently on ice and skates as the rest of us move on dry land. All the while, they engage in the activities–checking, passing and shooting–that comprise a sport that people can watch, follow and enjoy. If a drop a sweat falls on the floor in basketball, they stop the game and mop it up. That's how hard it is to play on a slick surface.

Hertl's play is fun. It's enjoyable. Like Gretzky, he periodically does something that makes you say, how the...? (Get to the YouTube video yet?) What's more important, Hertl not only makes me remember what I like about hockey, he helps me remember what I like about sports in general–that they're universal. Hertl is from the Czech Republic. He speaks next to no English. He's fluent in hockey and communicates just fine with his teammates. Czechs play hockey the same way Americans and Canadians and Russians and Swedes and everyone else does. Same with basketball. Same with soccer. Same with baseball. We don't speak the same language, have the same customs, eat the same foods, govern in the same way or have the same type of currency. But we play sports the same way. And as each day goes by and people find ways to shoot others to pieces or blow up buildings, it's hard to feel hopeful about anything. But when I imagine the rock being thrown by a Palestinian is a baseball being thrown to an Israeli soldier and the two are playing catch, it makes my hope grow just a little. And if that's all my love of sports gives me, I'll take it.

Old college try

I have a college degree. A few degrees, actually. I really enjoyed my time at campus. My time as a college student was enriching and rewarding. I learned a great many things that weren't related to schoolwork. And college is often so much more immersive. I once did a project for a class that involved acting out a scene–that I prepared for by studying with trained Shakespearean actors. I did actual geology at a rock outcropping with a hammer, magnifying glass and other tools. 

College isn't for everyone, but most everyone I can think of could stand a period of adaptation from being a student to the big boy world. Join the Navy. Go to tech school. If you don't go to a traditional college, it's helpful to have something like that where you can not only build a foundation of skills but where you can also learn how to be an adult. 

As a kid, just about all you can ever remember being is a student. You wake up everyday, drag yourself to school and grind through a school day...rinse and repeat as needed. Year after year, from before you can ride a bike until you're old enough to drive a car, it's the same routine, day after day after day. And suddenly, you're not that thing. You can go to school, but don't have to. And it's a weird adjustment. The freshman attrition rate in college is amazing. Mostly, the kids that don't stick with it are ones that are overwhelmed by the responsibility–no one makes you go to school, no one makes you do homework, no one really even cares if you're in class. 

While I look back fondly on my college years–I still smile when I see a young kid walking around with a sweatshirt from my Alma Mater–I wonder if, in this digital age, there is much value for most people in a college education. I value education as a whole. I think it's critically important. And, if you're going to be an engineer or doctor or something, by all means, college is for you. But what about kids with history degrees working in customer service or economics degrees working in telecommunications? What is the point of their degree? Well, they should have known not to pick such a useless major. That's the argument people sometimes put forth. But it's an erroneous point. College is impossible to survive if the subject matter doesn't interest you. My sister has a nursing degree. I have a zero percent chance of getting the same degree. You can't just do it because it's a sensible career path. Interest is a must. 

And degrees take time. And they're expensive. Technology has changed the pace of knowledge these days. Degrees, four or five years down the road from freshman to graduation, are like computers. You walk off the stage, paper in hand and your degree is already archaic. So you have a relatively useless education base, you've burned up four or five years (more in most cases, let's be frank) and you are $40,000 or more in debt and only slightly better off than kids graduating high school the same day you graduated college. 

Some 40 odd years ago, my dad got a job having a high school diploma, some college background and several years of service in the Navy. By all accounts, he really was over-qualified for the position. Today, having  college background for employers means you have a Master's degree or higher. A bachelor's degree is the equivalent to my dad's high school diploma. It's the very least you should have. 

All the while, companies bemoan the fact there aren't enough highly skilled employees in the work pool. When my dad entered the work force, and before, there was a thing called OJT–on the job training. In a sense, this notion goes back  well beyond feudal times. The idea was a kid would start with a company–in the mail room, say– learn a few things, work his way up the ladder and by the time he's 25 or so, has a good enough job to support a family, buy a house and complain about tax rates. So...what happened to that? Why can't that be a thing now? Companies need trained employees–so hire them at 18 and train them yourself.

Endless companies will hire unpaid interns. Why not pay them a little while they learn and then put them into positions as you need them, fully confident they know what they are doing–assuming you know what you're doing, that is. Many companies (not so much in the US) have adopted this policy. They pay young workers, train them and the kids, in turn, agree to work for a period of time–normally 3-5 years–for that company. If you are a good company, the workers will stay. If not, you have a structure to replace them built in. For the employees, skills like Social Media Marketing or Search Engine Optimization are applicable to other companies, so moving on shouldn't be a problem if that's their inclination. 

Trained workers, no college debt, more qualified young workers and college is freed up for people who will treat us when we are sick, build our roads and bridges and teach us how to do keg stands. Talk about a win–win scenario.

Working for the Weakened

I had a fellowship with the State of California right out of college. One of the projects I worked on was a streamlining of our funding process. Our division had money for groups in the state to have. We worked with these groups to come up with a system that made it an easier process.  Since we were the "government," people weren't always so helpful and trusting. It was aggravating to know all you wanted to do is help these groups secure funding–which they want and need–but there was still resistance. In our staff meetings, we discussed this fact, quoting the Jerry McGuire line, "help me, help you...help me help you...helpmehelpyou!"

I've been looking for a new job lately. The process has changed in the last decade or so. It's changed dramatically since my professional ideal was a job at Miller's Outpost, with the occasional break across the way at Gold Mine for a quick game of Moon Patrol. A resume is the least of your concerns as a job seeker. You need to have social media skills, a LinkedIn account, probably a blog or website with links to previous works. There is far more information available to employers than your work history, educational background and the fact you can type 65 words a minute. As such, it's difficult for HR people to wade through the array of ways potential employees have to present themselves. Since it's hard to know what best to ask for, these job poster, candidate reviewers often ask for everything. It's to the point where HR people are like this: If you could meet God and ask Him one question, what would it be? HR professional answers: Our standard application form 1253 has ten mandatory questions that all candidates must answer or they cannot be considered for the position...

There are not many things I feel like I'm an "expert" at. However, as a longtime journalist, I feel like I'm an expert question-asker. I think I can help these HR people refine their employee hunt a little. The first thing to do is to list ten essential skills for the position, say for cashier at McDonalds. The candidate needs to be cheerful, honest, trustworthy, personable, helpful, service oriented, reliable, well mannered, good with money and articulate. Next, your first HR question should be, are you at least six of these things? Yes? OK, send me your resume.

Next, dispense with the questions about objectives and so forth. Everyone's objective is to get a job and earn a living. The reason they applied is you have a job open. And stop asking people what their salary expectations are.   This is the job. This is what it pays. That information will automatically filter your pool of candidates. True, the occasional sandwich artist will apply for Chief Operations Officer, but those strays are easily eliminated.

Stop asking for candidates to upload a resume and then have them fill out an online form that has the same exact information as the resume. This duplication of process is keeping qualified and desirable candidates from applying, even if only occasionally. Having hired people in the past myself, I know you can take one minute to buzz through a resume and see who is remotely qualified and who isn't. Toss the "not" ones and call the "are" ones. If the pool is small enough by then, invite them to an interview. Seeing is believing. Pro sports teams talk to loads of players–even ones they know they have no hope of drafting. They meet them. They visit. Hey coach, I only talked to 20 of the 2,341 draft-eligible kids on the phone and I know who we should draft... That conversation never happened in pro sports ever.

What is the harm? What exactly are you doing anyway? Isn't hiring a person sort of a priority? Why call, re-call, interview, re-interview and then have a panel interview? Don't you know a talented fit when you see one? If you don't, why are you screening people in the first place? Shouldn't one of the job skills for a HR person be the ability to spot a quality employee? I was a sports writer for a long time. I can watch any game in any sport and spot the kids with real talent in 20 minutes. College recruiters can do it in five. It's your industry and your job to hire quality people. You should be really good at it by now. Post a job, look at the candidates and hire someone already.

Lastly, desist with the cover letter. What does that do? Dear person, as my resume plainly outlines for anyone to see, I have the following experience and education. My applying for this position clearly expresses my interest in working for your company or, frankly, any company that pays a livable salary. Thank you for wasting two minutes of your day reading this letter rather than sifting through resumes. Sincerely, the name on the resume.

Some employers I know have said a cover letter is the first opportunity to see the prospect in action.  This is unfair. As an alive human being living on the Earth right now, chances are the candidate is a horrible writer. Judging from the mistakes I've seen in job postings, someone's writing skill is no indicator of their professional skill and prowess as a synergistic team player.

Post a job, sift through the nonsense of online forms and cover letters, interview 10 people you think will be good and pick one. The best practices process I can think of is imagining the job being done by Sheriff Buford T. Justice (of Texarkana, Texas, by the by) from the film Smokey and the Bandit.  The Sheriff, wading through resumes, cover letters, YouTube videos, Facebook pages, Twitter feeds, and Tumblr accounts says aloud to his future new employee, "now that all the sentimental bullshit is over, where are you, you sumbitch?!"

If the good Sheriff was in charge of HR, job vacancies would be filled like that–you, um...you have to insert the fingers snapping noise. I can't really write it like that.

Three: The number of the beast

I love basketball. I hate three-pointers. I used to love three-pointers when I was younger. The three-point line was a relatively new invention when I was a kid, so there was a novelty aspect to shooting a three-pointer. There was a never-say-die element to a three pointer, too. We're down three with two seconds left? Prior to the the three-point line, it would have been time to pack up and head home. Ah, but with the three-pointer there's still hope...the ever-lasting fuel for sports fandemonium.

The other thing I liked about three-pointers was I could shoot them. I was the youngest and smallest of all my cousins and basketball-playing kids in my neighborhood. Driving to the basket was not a real option for me. I could always dribble the ball a bit on the outside while the bigger kids took a breather and, never wanting to be outside of rebound range, the older kids often left three-point land unguarded. That left me a golden, swat-proof opportunity to get a shot off.

Now, as someone who periodically coaches and writes about basketball, I hate three-pointers. Three-pointers have become a way of life. But that's not the substance of what basketball is. I bet you can think of dozens of NBA players who have scored 40 or more points recently. How many of those were post players? There's too much effort required for a center to score 40 points. Taking free throws out of the equation, a post player has to hit 20 shots to produce what a shooter can with just 13 shots. Many college teams now have the three-pointer as the foundation of their offense. There are dozens of teams nightly across this country that shoot more three-pointers than two-pointers. Really? That's what basketball is? Hit 15 threes, 10 regular shots and 21 free throws–guess what? You just scored 86  points and probably won. That's basketball? Hitting 25 baskets and winning? Without the three-pointers and the same 21 free throws, you need to hit 33 shots. What happened in the game, a late-arriving fans asks. One team hit 32 shots and the other hit 25. Which team won, he asks. The 25 shot team.

In what other sport would this seem normal? Hooray! A grand slam! Four runs for us! Yeah, but he hit it into the upper deck–it's six runs for us! I knocked down all ten pins! That's a strike! I knocked down three pins...but I did it from way over there. That's also a strike! He shoots, he scores! Yes, but he shot the puck from outside the blue line...he shoots and scores two goals! Tiger...lining up the par put from 54 feet away–that puts him in three-point range, so if he hits this, it's and eagle! It's stupid in every other sport. Why does it make sense in basketball?

Because it makes the game more exciting! It gives underdogs a chance! Yeah–except, no... it makes the game worse. The complaints from analysts and coaches alike are the same–the players can't shoot mid-range jump shots, they can't make free throws, they don't know how to set proper screens. These are all critical fundamentals to what basketball is really about and they are eroding. And why? There's no value in it. There's no benefit to setting screens and working the ball into the paint. Why drive to the basket and get fouled to get three points? First, you have to make a basket, then you have to get hacked, then you have to hit another shot. It's easier to stand really far away and throw a shot in from the third row of the bleachers. You can't screen, you can't pass, you can't rebound, you can't dribble, you can't drive, you can't make free throws, you can't defend. You can consistently hit three-pointers. We gotta get you some time on the court! That's the game of basketball?

Just wait. Soon you'll get four points from hitting behind the half-court line. One day, there will be a circle on the the far end of the court. Hit a shot from there and your team instantly wins the game! Hey, it makes teams defend the whole court, keeps the underdog in it and makes the game more exciting.

Red Card

As a sports writer, I had to cover different sports. Sometimes, as in the case of rugby, I had to cover things I didn't know much about. As a result, I had to learn a lot about these sports in a short period of time.

One of these sports was soccer. Prior to covering games as a writer, what I knew about soccer is you couldn't use your hands and...well, that's it. I just knew you couldn't use your hands. Luckily, the local teams I covered over the years were all pretty good and it made learning the sport easy. Still, I wanted to improve my coverage, so I started watching international matches on TV. I felt a little like "Days of Thunder." I haven't done much, but I watched it a lot on ESPN.

This exposure helped me understand the game better and watching it played at the highest level helped me appreciate the game more. I soon found myself occasionally watching random matches for no good reason. The capper was watching a match between AC Milan and FC Barcelona online whilst at work.

But try as I might, I just couldn't embrace the sport fully. And, to quote Twisted Sister–as one does in moments like these–I've tried, oh how I've tried. I just can't. There's something terribly, I don't know, American about me. And soccer just isn't designed with American DNA in mind.

Soccer is too, I don't know what the word is...friendly? Sportsman? Congenial? When a player is injured, soccer teams kick the ball out of bounds. When the other teams throws it back in, they give it right back to the opposing squad. When a player in soccer is offsides, it means he's farther up the field than any opposing player. The rule, a coach explained, is to give the defense a fair chance. And all this time that's what I thought the goal keeper was for.

But that's not what American sports are all about. We have the slam dunk, the long bomb and the grand slam. If a defender falls down in an American sport...well, he shouldn't have. Try not to next time. American sports fans watch their sports with an "all in" attitude. Survival of the fittest. That's who we are as American sports fans. And above all, we like winners. But soccer is fine sometimes with a job well done by all. They might not love a tie, but they'll accept it. For Americans, tying is worse than losing.

That point was fully driven home recently in a match between the United States and Scotland. I watched some of the match and later discovered it ended in a draw. Magical. Ninety minutes of watching 22 grown men kick a ball around on the grass. As Billy Joel once said, is that all you get for your money? I can be angry if my team loses or elated if they win. But nothing compares to the anger I'd feel walking away with an $85 bag of 'meh.' From now on, I'm going to stick with the excitement of American sports. Bass Pro Tour, here I come. Talk about one team losing...

Clothesline in the Brees

Player safety. When the NFL started delving into player safety, I was for it. I don't mean that to sound like I'm not for it anymore. But what once sounded to me like, "player safety...yeah, I'm down for that," in a "come on people, now, smile on your brother, everybody get together and try to love one another right now," kind of way, now hits my ear like some South African jackass waving his credentials over his head, saying "diplomatic immunity...heh, heh, heh..."

I'm reminded of this once again following the recent win by the New Orleans Saints over the San Francisco 49ers. The win was aided to a great degree by a late penalty on Ahmad Brooks for a hit against Drew Brees. A clothesline. That's what some Saints people called it after the game. Except, it wasn't. Brooks pretty clearly hit Brees in the chest, driving him backwards. The equal and opposite reaction to the hit was the Go-Go Gadget neck that uncoiled from Brees' torso, making the hit seem higher than it actually was.

The officials flagged the hit. Player safety...heh, heh, heh. The general problem with the play is twofold. First, Drew Brees is not very tall. In everyday walking around life, he's normal-sized, but in the NFL, he's short. Any hit on 28 of 30 NFL quarterbacks (aside from Russell Wilson and Brees) would just be a regular, un-flaggable hit. But Brees is short. The second problem  is he's Drew Brees. When you rough up Brees, you rough up the NFL's marketing campaign.

In Houston, about 350 miles away, Oakland and Houston started a pair of young quarterbacks. The short stature of Brees aside, if the Brooks hit had been made on Matt McGloin (Oakland's rookie), for example, there would have been no flag. Why? Because who cares if a rookie backup gets hurt? But if a star like Tom Brady gets hit and injured, the NFL is liable to change the rulebook...oh wait, that actually happened.

And that's the real core of the problem. The NFL is less concerned about player safety than it is concerned for star player safety. Injured stars don't sell video games, home owner's insurance or pizzas. I mean, who wants to buy a pizza from Case Keenum? And the end result, for the Niners in this case, is they lose the game. Sure, they could have scored a few more points or made a few more stops, but the bottom line is the play opened the door and the NFL was all-too-happy to walk through.

And just wait. Aaron Rodgers was injured on the most normal sack you can imagine. Someday soon, it won't be legal drag a quarterback to the ground or even rush the passer. Coming soon to a NFL stadium near you: seven-on-seven drills!