This week it is a Thursday.

Last week it was a Thursday as well.

It is becoming a tradition in Denver to rival the recurring story about how Tim Tebow is saving the world this week.

It is the weekly article in the Denver Post that says (prophesizes, hopes, prays – you decide the verb) that last night’s Rockies’ win will be the game that turns around a season that started so promising (11-2 to start season) but has turned into something uglier than the Chicks with Steve Buscemi Eyes web site (18-30 since).

Yet, each week after a single game offensive explosion or quality win by Ubaldo Jimenez, the Rockies seem to revert right back to the team that faded away from last year’s playoff race like Jack at the end of Titanic.

I know the fair weather Rockies fans that have only been following the team for a couple years don’t want to hear this, but there is one possible explanation for this team’s “underachievement”.

Maybe they just aren’t that good.

Rockies management has for years used a veneer of ‘youth movements’ and fiscal responsibility to hide a focus on maximizing profits more than maximizing wins. The cornerstone of this fallacy is the core group of young players coming up through the minors together, who when mature would propel this team to the top of the NL.

Headlined by players like Troy Tulowitzki, Carlos Gonzalez, Ubaldo Jimenez, Ian Stewart, Chris Iannetta, Dexter Fowler, Seth Smith, the Rockies have sold the fan base on the idea that these guys are destined to be stars and it is only a matter of patience.

It takes a lot of willful ignorance to forget the previous generation that they also sold in the same way – Matt Holliday, Jeff Francis, Aaron Cook, Garret Atkins, Brian Fuentes, Brad Hawpe, Clint Barmes. All of whom, other than Holliday, would need a late career renaissance to be described as ‘journeymen’.

The Rockies players have obliged with the management’s charade by showing just enough flashes that this fairy tale isn’t quite as far-fetched as it might sound coming from the GM of the Pirates.

Tulo truly is a great player, yet is prone to fall into slumps that take him weeks to get out of.

CarGo had a great season last year but still has more potential than actual performance.

Ubaldo looked like the best pitcher in baseball for almost half a season, but severe overuse in that time, predictably wore him out over the 2^nd half of the season and he has yet to find his form this year.

The others (Iannetta, Stewart, Fowler, Smith) have the occasional good games but nothing to make you think that they should stop planning family vacations for the 2^nd week of July.

In total, this team appears to be completely mediocre, despite years of propaganda from the management to ‘wait until next year’ when they grow up and turn into the 1990’s Yankees.

Setting aside the specifics of the Rockies players though, they embody a perfect case study of one of the hardest questions in sports:

When does un-tapped potential grow a layer and become failure? It is a thin line between aged wine and young vinegar. How can we tell when a player has ripened one day too long?

At what point do we need to quit waiting for an athlete to ‘mature’ or ‘turn the corner’ and accept their limitations?

CarGo could find his swinging groove again this year. Ubaldo could regain his pitching mastery (and if he does, let’s hope Jim Tracy doesn’t burn him out completely again) but at what point is it time to give up on the others and recognize they aren’t underperforming they have just reached the limits of their potential?

At some point a player is no longer young and inexperienced; they just have a natural limitation – whether it is talent or attitude or intelligence.

The Rockies aren’t alone in this phenomenon, of course; they just happened to be one of the few examples of a team made up nearly entirely by players this question applies to. You can see examples in other sports:

J.R. Smith – the hot and cold shooter for the Nuggets. One game looks like he finally gets it – playing defense, being a leader, passing the ball, taking and making open shots. Then the next game he reverts to his ball-hogging, whining, sulking ways.

Tony Romo – Always puts up good stats and shows all the talent to be one of the best QBs in the league but when it comes to crunch time: late in the 4^th quarter or in playoff games melts faster than Frosty the Snowman in a green house.

This week, much is being made of LeBron James’ play (or lack thereof) in the 4^th quarters of NBA Finals games.

There is little doubt that James is the most physically gifted player the NBA has ever seen. But physical talent is only a fraction of what makes a great player (see: J.R. Smith). We as fans, most of us old enough to remember Michael Jordan’s dominance, desperately want LeBron to step into Jordan’s shoes; to use his immense talent to single-handedly take over and win games.

But it isn’t athletic skills that allowed Jordan to do that. It was something more innate. Some hidden drive and competitive fire that wouldn’t allow him to lose.

The same thing we used to see in Tiger Woods on the golf course.

It isn’t skill. It isn’t talent. It is a fire. A feeling buried deep inside that in the moment (whether they admit it or not) a person would rather die than lose.

We want James to take that role (whether we like him or not) because those of us that watched Jordan miss it. We miss witnessing an athlete going somewhere that none of us can go.

If we had known at the time that Tiger playing a U.S. Open with a broken leg and torn ligament might derail the rest of his career, we might have watched it differently. Instead all we saw was a guy win the hardest golf tournament in the country on sheer will and one leg.

Rather than projecting our desire on to LeBron maybe it is time to accept his limitations. LeBron will go down as the most physically talented player to ever step foot on a NBA court but he won’t go down as the greatest.

He has now been playing in the NBA for 7 years. He has played in 90 playoff games. Why do we think, he will now evolve into a player we want him to be?

To borrow a phrase, at this point, LeBron is, who we think he is.

Now, of course, he could go out in Game #5, throw up a triple double and score 21 points in the fourth quarter to win the game (and the series) for the Heat. He is so freakishly talented; it wouldn’t really surprise any of us.

But he probably won’t.

It is pretty rare that someone with as much time and experience as LeBron would turn the corner and suddenly become a new player seemingly overnight. Chauncey Billups sort of did it, but you could argue that was more a result of consistent minutes and a coach rather than some cloud parting, angel singing epiphany.

Maybe it is time we all stop attempting to will LeBron to reach his potential and accept a mundane but more probable fact.

He already has.

A couple weeks ago, I went to my first Rockies game of the season. This was notable for a few reasons. First, it was a Friday night rain-out that they turned into a Saturday double header which was not only my first ever double header it was also my first 2010 reminder of how dysfunctional the Rockies organization is. If there is one thing that you can count on the Rockies for, it is making life as difficult as possible for their fans.

More importantly Ryan Spilborghs walked up to his at-bat to the song Tainted Love by Soft Cell. For reasons that are soon to be obvious, this reminded of a summer 2008 post in which we inaugurated a round table to discuss which song we would want playing as we make the walk from the dug out to the batting box. While Ryan was busy grounding out, I emailed Turner and the Shadow and per Shadow’s request I am re-posting below as the original was lost to last summer’s virus.

Now that I have had 2 years of distance, would I change my selection? I have actually made a concerted effort to find some new music over the last few months (most likely hoping it will stop the numbers of my age continuing to spiral out of control) but I can’t say I have found a song with the short burst of power needed for the at-bat intro.  Given that, if I were to revisit this: would I change my overbearing snark when it comes to others song choices? Probably. Would I change my song? Nope.

Convening King Arthur’s Round Table

I used to love that McLaughlin Group show. Get a bunch of disparate views together and let them tell their side of some issue and then an old curmudgeon calls them names and tell them why they are wrong. Now that is great television.

OK, full disclosure. I never actually saw the McLaughlin Group show. But I did really enjoy those skits on Saturday Night Live with Dana Carvey yelling “WRONG!” at each of his other moderators.

Anyway, I am not here to dive into the relative merits of political discussion shows on television. I am merely trying to provide some context as to how we came up with the format for today’s post. I decided to get a few different people with different points of view to discuss a chosen topic of the day.

And, of course, then I get to tell them why they are wrong.

So, on to today’s topic:

If you were a major league ball player what would be your at-bat intro music and why?

Turner: Tainted Love by Soft Cell

Not the normal get up and go crazy song but very powerful.  I just love it when it goes very softly “Oh…..Tainted Love…..  bink bink…..  Tainted Love”  the bass thunders through the stadium, all of my fantasy girl fans go berserk and have some official Turner Sign (some variation of a hand / arm / body gesture of a ‘T’) that they flash during the “bink bink”.   I’d hit a homer and round the bases flashing my ‘T’ sign in return saying

I love you though you hurt me so

Now I’m going to pack my things and go

As a close second, I’d go with (Coming to) America by Neil Diamond.  Very American, passion and would support that fact that baseball is as American as it gets (much like the Hot Dog).  If Sweet Caroline wasn’t so over-used in Boston, I’d love to go with that (the song that drove Boston to the great Hierarchy of Hate victory in the previous post)

[Super Dave’s take: A one-hit-wonder from the mid-80’s? Apparently Turner gets flashback night at the Blue Oyster Club and the baseball diamond confused. Makes you wonder who these ‘fantasy girl fans’ are. Most likely 40-year old soccer moms; the only ones that remember this song. And Neil Diamond? If I am a pitcher and that is the next batter’s intro song the only thing keeping me from the strike out is laughing too hard.]

Jules: Given that I was actually quite concerned about receiving my college degree (from the University of Iowa by the way – Go Big 10!) based on my complete lack of eye to hand coordination and a final required credit in table tennis, the idea that I would ever need At Bat intro music is a bit of a stretch.  However through the wonders of the written test (totally ACE-ed it!) and dating my table tennis opponent (got me to Colorado but that story is probably more appropriate to a different blog) here I am! 

 So I’m going to stick with the fantasy that I’m not only a major leaguer but that I rock.  So my At Bat music is Cocky by Kid Rock.  It may require some annoying bleeps but how can you argue with lyrics like this.  It is my philosophy on life every day when I head into corporate America as well…..

They say I’m cocky, and I say What?
It aint braggin’ mother”bleeper” if ya back it up

[Super Dave’s Take: Those are some solid lyrics for entering the batter’s box but I am afraid that the only acceptable answer for a Kid Rock song is Bawitdaba. If you are looking for the intimidation/heavily cursing choice, the correct song would be: Break Stuff by Limp Bizkit. Nice try Jules, thanks for playing. It is back to the ping-pong table for you.]

Mrs. Super Dave: [Note: Given that we have had this exact conversation at least 379 times at baseball games over the years, it seemed only appropriate to get the Mrs.’ opinion.]

Let me first thank Mr. Super Dave for finally inviting me to participate.  After reading (almost) every posting for the past year, I have to say it’s about time!  And to anyone out there reading outside of us “regular customers”, let me tell you that S.D. really is this big a sports dork.  (Smooches!)

The at-bat song is an interesting question, and one that we discuss at least once a year when we get to our first game and notice the changes from the previous year.  I will also say that it is a great ice-breaker if ever you’re with a group of people at a sports-related event or venue and copious amounts of over-priced beer don’t seem to do the trick.

I have two modes of thinking when it comes to what my intro music would be: 1) crowd energizer, and 2) local/geographical propriety.

Crowd energizer – I usually have a rotating list of about 5 songs (much like my rotating list of 20, er I mean 5 celebs that are exempt from cheating.  See Friends season 3 episode 5 – The One with Frank, Jr. -  if you have no clue what I’m talking about), but right now, I’m feeling Can’t Stop by the Red Hot Chili Peppers. 

Can’t stop addicted to the shin dig
Cop top he says I’m gonna win big

I would really need about 7-10 seconds of the opening build-up guitar work to get the crowd into it, then the first two lines.  That could be a problem since the music technician never seems to give them that much unless it’s a lead-off spot, but the lyrics are key too.  Let’s face it, most of the guys on a given team aren’t marquis players, they are the guys making just more than league minimum and they’re amped to fly private and have someone doing their laundry. They don’t want their run in “the Show” to end. 

Local/Geographic Shout Out – At times I can get on board with a player throwing a shout out to the home crowd and the team’s fans (but I’m sorry, Todd Helton playing “These are my people.  This is where I come from” just annoys me.  Yes, you’ve played with the Rockies forever and a day, but this is NOT where you come from!!!  You’re from Tennessee!!!!).  Having spent 3 years in Wash. D.C. and adopting the Baltimore Orioles as our default team outside our own hometown loyalties (the Nats didn’t exist yet), I always thought it would be cool to have Warehouse by DMB as my song if I played in Camden Yard.

If you aren’t familiar with the Orioles park, it is in downtown Baltimore in what used to be an industrial and shipping area.  The team offices are in an old historic warehouse building just beyond right field, so it has a nickname of the Warehouse….. I think you can see where I’m going with my song choice now.  

At the warehouse
How I love to stay here
At the warehouse
Every man and woman
Get alive

For all of the 20 and 30-somethings who went to school during the first rise of DMB and are now using their firm’s box seats in the front rows, this is a perfect song to get them off their iphones and back into the game.  It also has a context and relevance that only that stadium has.  Brilliant! 

So there you have it.  Apologies for taking so long to get there, but who knows when I’ll have the opportunity to shine like this again; I’m taking my 15 minutes plus some (which is probably how long it took you to read this…Ha!)  And since you read my husband’s posts, you are used to the lllllong explanation.  There’s always a back story.  More smooches!

[Super Dave’s Take: The Warehouse is a great choice…if you are deciding what to listen to while hitting that glass bong in the corner. Mrs. SD apparently thinks quite highly of the Oriole fans (both of them) assuming they will be able to figure out the connection through the haze of Boog’s barbeque and Bud Light. RHCP is always a good choice. But I am a little more old-school. How about a little love for Higher Ground?]

Super Dave: Well, it was nice of everyone to come out today and they all made a nice effort (except for Turner, come on man – live in the now!). However the correct answer is the guitar solo from Icky Thump by The White Stripes.

To be specific, I don’t mean the long rambling guitar solo in the middle but rather the shorter one that starts 40 seconds into the song and is then repeated throughout.

The beauty of this song and the key (to me) to a great intro song is anticipation – it needs to build. It starts as just the guitar (the crowd rises to its feet as I slowly strut to the box) and then after one riff, the drum beat drops and takes the entire solo up a notch (boom! The crowd explodes, turning the stands into a mosh pit as I slowly bob my head and go through my pre at-bat routine while the opposing pitcher becomes a pile of mush – or worse, Trevor Hoffman with the playoffs on the line).

Prior to Icky Thump’s release last summer, the appropriate choice was Party Up by DMX. Start right at the beginning with the intro rhythm music repeating (anticipation again) and then the bass drops and DMX steps to the mic:

Y’all gonna make me lose my mind

Up in here, up in here

Ya’ll gonna make me go all out

Up in here, up in here

Y’all gonna make me act the fool

Up in here, up in here

Y’all gonna make me lose my cool

Up in here, up in here

If that doesn’t say ‘I am about to send your best pitch 400 feet’, then nothing does.

Thankfully my baseball career ended when dad stopped pitching underhand because the most appropriate person in America for that song already used it as his intro music: Mr. Barry Bonds.

There you go, the next time you are asked to pinch hit for the majors you know to request the guitar solo from Icky Thump.

That is, if you think you are man enough to back it up.

If not, you can always choose one of the songs identified by my compatriots here.

As we approach the Fourth of July, I thought I should pause and take a moment to embrace the holiday. On other holidays you often hear of people using the occasion to appreciate their lives – whether it is assessing the things for which they are thankful on Thanksgiving or airing grievances on Festivus.

However, it doesn’t seem like anyone looks at the Fourth of July to appreciate all that our forefathers had to go through to allow us to live as we do.

It’s funny that as a kid you learn so much about the revolution but I don’t think it really dawned on me until just a few years ago reading about John Adams that our forefathers weren’t always heroes. Initially they were traitors.

With two hundred years of revisionist history, we have been trained to believe that they were good and the Brits were evil. All of this makes you really wonder what future generations will look back on this time and think.

Was the Iranian election of 2009 a watershed moment or a road bump on the road to continued maniacal, theological, narrow-minded, intolerant leadership? Was the war in Afghanistan, an imperial super power forcing its views on a simple people or the freeing of a people from tyrannical leadership? Was Michael Jackson a musical genius and man of god or a pervy weirdo that took advantage of children?

We can’t address these questions today, but it got me to thinking about the greatness of this country. Those many years ago our forefathers fought for freedom. Freedom to say and think as you desire. Freedom from afternoon tea and crumpets and poor oral hygiene.

So in honor of the men that founded this country I have decided to express a number of things I am free to think and say because of them.

In the United States in 2009 I am free to think:

• That Michael O’Donoghue’s quote of ‘Good career move’ when he heard that Elvis had just died summed up better than I ever could my feelings about all of these people suddenly sanctifying a child molester.
• That people who have decided to forget that Michael Jackson molested children just because he made some good music and passed away are too moronic to be allowed to reproduce.
• That when these people (inevitably) do reproduce their children will most likely become reality show contestants and inflict their uselessness and idiocy on the rest of us.
• That a better use for Guantanamo would be as a detention center for all reality show participants and the paparazzi
• That the 2-0 lead that U.S. soccer held over Brazil was a much less accurate indicator of their relative strength than getting outscored 3-0 in the second half.
• That you should only watch the movie Vantage Point once because the second time you will start figuring out that there are some holes in the timelines between the different versions of the same event.
• That the movie Walk Hard: The Dewey Cox Story is the perfect combination of realism and absurdity
• That in Walk Hard, the fact that Pam from The Office is surprisingly gorgeous and wearing low cut tops the whole time more than makes up for the extended penis close-ups.
• That Raul Ibanez is not taking steroids, despite what some blogger said. Here is what I wrote last year on my first visit to SafeCo field: Raul Ibanez might be the greatest player in the majors…if he could bat exclusively against Jered Weaver. Lifetime he is 12-21 with 4 homers against Weaver. Friday night, he hit two massive homers (the first was measured at 438 feet) on a cool, damp evening. Put him in Coors Field and he might hit one 600 feet.
• That the Rockies are a fun story but I wouldn’t put much money on a Rockune, Rockuly, Rockust, and Rocktember run propelling them into the playoffs.
• That after watching some of the Rockies / A’s series last weekend, everyone involved would be happier if Holliday were still playing for the Rockies.
• That Jim Tracy’s helming of this team to a 23-9 record actually helped prove the point of my rant in which I declared the Rockies dead to me.
• That after questioning every single move that Tracy made in the 9^th inning of a tie game against the Pirates a couple weeks ago only to see them all work to perfection, I should stick to football.
• That they could all get ‘Brady-ed’ in the first quarter of the first game and Colt McCoy, Sam Bradford and Tim Tebow would still be the top three vote-getters for the Heisman.
• That the guy whose thesis in PCU was that you could find a Gene Hackman or Michael Caine movie on cable at any hour of any day, will be proven correct this fall only it will be about finding a glowing tribute to Tim Tebow.
• That T.O. and Tony Romo are going to both wish T.O. was still in a Cowboy uniform by November 1^st.
• That Jay Cutler’s perception of his time in Denver is going to change radically about the fourth time he throws to a wide-open Devin Hester and the ball goes through his hand after spending an entire quarter handing off to Matt Forte.
• That it is sort of pathetic that the NFL is currently trying to determine which of the following players deserves the harshest penalty: a guy that inadvertently shot himself in the leg, a guy that ran a dog fighting ring and treated dogs worse than Kabayashi, and a guy that ran over and killed another person while driving drunk
• That a guy being stupid enough to shoot himself in the leg is to the other two as Martha ‘Dumptruck’ Dunstock is to Christian Slater in Heathers.
• That the Fourth of July signifies the beginning of the end of summer despite technically coming about 14 days after the official start of summer.
• That training camp can’t come fast enough.

What are you free to think?