MMM: Breaking news in a Sept. 12 world

Last week, I was putting in 45 minutes on the elliptical machine at the club and half-assedly monitoring the bank of TV screens above my noggin when ESPN News flashed a bright red "BREAKING NEWS" graphic along their crawl. The "breaking news" that followed was that Larry Brown had been named head coach of the Charlotte Bobcats.

Funny thing, though -- I'd heard that exact same story four hours earlier, on ESPN Radio, no less! If news is at least four hours old, and it's been reported on one of your own media platforms, how exactly is it "breaking" news?

This has been a pet peeve of mine for awhile, going back at least to the time when TV news directors started lining up with the "if it bleeds, it leads" crowd in an effort to drive ratings. Time and again, I'd see the "BREAKING NEWS" graphic on screen, only to be shown a car chase along an LA freeway, or a house fire in a distant suburb.

For me, there are two types of misleading done by these media charlatans. In the case of Larry Brown's hiring, it was certainly news, but it certainly was not breaking -- at least, not four hours after it had been first reported. And in the case of the car chase or the house fire, it certainly was breaking, but was it news? That is to say, if it hadn't been going on during the half-hour newscast, would they break into programming to report on it, or even report on it at all in a later telecast?

This really started to irk me in the months after 9/11. I was working in the Internet news world at the time, and we kept a constant vigil on the various cable news networks to make sure we had wire copy on our site whenever a new development in the search-and-recover efforts arose, or a new threat had been uncovered. Our heartbeats would race whenever one of these networks splashed a "BREAKING NEWS" graphic on the screen, and in the wake of that horrible day, most of them were very responsible in limiting the use of that ploy to when they actually had something both newsworthy and timely to report.

However, it wasn't long before big media went back to their typically sensationalist ways. Soon, it felt like they were using me, playing on the raw nerves still exposed in the months after the towers fell to pimp their latest non-scandal scandal. They knew that, like Pavlov's dogs, all they had to do was ring the bell and flash "BREAKING NEWS" and I'd fly to the screen at full attention to hear what they had to report.

Sadly enough, that ploy even crept into the advertising world. I specifically recall a TV commercial that aired in late 2001, with two fake news anchors breathlessly stating, "We interrupt this broadcast to bring you this breaking news ..." only to find out the "news" was a big sale at the local auto dealership. Given that we'd just spent a couple months living in fear of a follow-up terrorist attack, and that the news organizations actually did report on 9/11 and the ensuing developments in this very way, this type of ad was craven at best and positively cruel at worst. And the suits at the TV stations who accepted this kind of ad in the months after 9/11 ... well, there's a special place in Hell reserved for them.

Which brings me back to ESPN News. Sure, their "news" isn't as serious as a terrorist attack or an anthrax scare, but given that ESPN reports solely on the sports world, shouldn't the "BREAKING NEWS" tag be saved for something that's actually breaking, and actually news, at least in the context of the sports world? If you cry wolf often enough, you won't be able to reach your audience when you actually have something newsworthy to report. And I probably won't bat an eye the next time I see the bright red graphic on ESPN News.

Then again, we're talking about a network that invested hours upon hours of SportsCenter to determine "Who's Now?" so nothing they do should surprise me anymore.

MMM: Shout-out to my frozen homies

This week's Meltdown is a call for an actual meltdown of a sort -- consider it a plea to the weather gods for some relief in the Upper Midwest. They've been having a "spring" like none I can ever remember. The StarTribune of Minneapolis reports today that if the flurries that are forecast for today actually arrive, it will be the first time in almost 100 years that the Land O' Lakes has seen four straight days of snow this late in the season.

My in-laws live in the beautiful lakes region in the north-central part of the state, and they've thrilled the Little Gophers with e-mailed photos of fresh snow drifts piled up on their property throughout April. The images thrilled me too, in the sense that I'm not there having to deal with that snow.

Minnesotans are a hardy sort, of course, and most of this snow will melt quickly -- the forecast calls for sunny and 63 by Wednesday in Minneapolis -- so I'm not worried that suicide hotline calls will spike in the Twin Cities the way they did, say, in Green Bay when Breffarve sort-of retired last month.

But this kind of late snow can have a debilitating short-term affect on the psyche of the citizens. I only recall one brutal April snowstorm -- 1982, the year the Metrodome opened, and the Twins were patting themselves on the back for their good fortune as the Teflon bubble protected them from a nasty squall about 10 days into the season. But by the time that March rolls around, every Minnesotan worth his or her road salt is sick to death of the white stuff and is ready to get outside and play baseball, hit the links, or just dig around in the garden and get some dirt under his or her nails.

So to be faced with this kind of extended brutality in the last week of April is nothing short of cruel. I mean, a number of high schools from northern Minnesota have yet to play their first baseball game, outdoors at least. St. Cloud State had to cancel its spring football game because of the latest snowstorm. Schools are still closing early or starting late due to inclement weather. Bring on spring, once and for all, in the Upper Midwest!

MMM: Already sick of it

I don't know about you, but I am already sick of the national attention given to the Yankees and Red Sox this year. They just played a three-game series at Fenway over the weekend, and lo and behold, all three games were nationally televised: Friday night, an ESPN special; Saturday, the FOX game of the week; Sunday, the ESPN Sunday night game of the week.

It's a pattern that played out multiple times last year, and it's got to stop. Is there any storyline left that hasn't been played out to death? We know, the Red Sox sold Babe Ruth to the Yankees and there was supposedly a curse placed on the Boston franchise. In 2004, the Red Sox ended that supposed curse by rallying from a 3-0 deficit to defeat the Yankees in the ALCS. And they've won two of the last four World Series, while the Yankees remain the franchise with the most world championships under their belts.

ENOUGH! GIVE IT A REST! GIVE US SOME OTHER GAMES BETWEEN SOME OTHER TEAMS!

I suppose I am lucky in that I've got the MLB Extra Innings package, so I can watch pretty much any other game that's on (unless it involves the Angels, Dodgers, Giants, A's, Diamondbacks or Rockies -- more on that another time). But that's the rub -- I can only watch another game if it's on. And on the weekend, FOX and ESPN have exclusive windows on Saturday afternoon and Sunday night, respectively, meaning that no other games can be televised when their national games are on.

And get this -- when there actually was some legitimate drama involved (Saturday, Papelbon to face A-Rod with two runners on, two outs and the Sox leading by a run in the eighth inning), an extended rain delay ended the FOX telecast, so when the game resumed, I was treated to an infomercial or some lame movie of the week on my local FOX affiliate.

The two storied franchises hook up for a two-gamer at "the Stadium" (as if there's no other) this week, and guess what? The Wednesday night game is on ESPN! Thursday's game is not nationally televised, however, leading to much strife among members of Red Sox Nation and Yankees ... whatever they're called.

A couple of notes on Sunday night's game -- I flipped it on for about five minutes at about 6:30 p.m., a full 90 minutes after the first pitch, and the game was in the bottom of the third. I don't know if ESPN sneaks in extra commercials, or if the games just drag because every at-bat is so packed with drama, but these Yankees-Red Sox tilts are interminable.

And during the brief span in which I was watching, Jon Miller pointed out that a Red Sox batter had hit a ball to the deepest part of right field at Fenway, then mentioned that his broadcast partner, Joe Morgan, knew all about that part of the park. The camera cut to the booth as Miller related the story of Morgan hitting a drive to right field in the 1975 World Series, only to see Dwight Evans make a great catch and turn it into a double play.

The look on Morgan's face was priceless, and his reaction entirely predictable. Morgan -- who used to play in the major leagues, just ask him -- looked like he'd swallowed a live rat, then pointed out that the Reds went on to win that World Series. I'd have loved to have been a fly on the wall in that booth during the next commercial break. Classic stuff.

MMM: Shut up and pay your taxes

This week's meltdown was triggered by an op-ed column I read over the weekend in the Las Vegas Sun. It was a syndicated deal, penned by some guy named Walter Rodgers (apparently he's a former international correspondent at CNN), and it struck a nerve.

Usually when that happens, it stems from an opinion that ruffles my feathers, that gets my knickers in a proverbial twist. But this time, my ire was raised because I agreed with this guy 100 percent.

The topic of the column is taxes, which of course is timely given the month we've just entered. And the gist of the column was this: "Shut up and pay your taxes."

Like anybody who pays attention to political punditry, I've been inundated over the last decade or so with anti-tax opinions. From right-wing radio to reactionary newspaper columnists to conservative think tanks, the drumbeat has been consistent -- we're all shelling out too much of our income to fund a government that doesn't fulfill its obligations to society.

OK, that's probably putting to fine of a shine on it. The more common reaction has actually been more like, "I've got mine -- get your grubby hands out of my pockets and get your own!" And it's been successful, because as a basic, gut-level, common-sense response, it passes the smell test -- you know, the whole American dream, pull yourself up by your bootstraps thing.

But Rodgers put a different spin on taxes, one I hadn't heard much before, and one that makes perfect sense to me. As he says, "I'm happy to pay my fair share to the government. It's part of my patriotic duty – and it's a heckuva bargain."

What a novel approach -- viewing taxes as your contribution to society, your share of the costs of the services that you can't provide for yourself. If you don't want to pay taxes, fine -- just don't drive on the roads, don't use any electricity, don't use your plumbing, don't watch TV, don't send your kids to public schools, etc.

Of course, the comeback from right-wing types would be something along the lines of, "I'm more than happy to pay for those services I use. I just don't want to pay for anything that doesn't help me, and I don't want anybody to get away with not carrying their own water. There's just too much fat in the government, and we need to slash their budgets before it gets any further out of hand."

Which is fine -- up to a point. But here's another way of looking at it. Let's say you pay your 16-year-old son an allowance of $20 a week. And let's say you find out the kid is using this money, along with other funds he has available, to purchase crystal meth. If you're following the starve-the-government logic, you'd say to the kid, "That's it -- no more allowance for you. If you want to buy crystal meth, you'll have to get a paper route or to flip burgers to pay for it."

But wouldn't it make more sense to try and get the kid some help and solve the problem? Instead of cutting off funds, get him into rehab and keep him away from his friends who use meth. Don't just kick and scream and cut his allowance -- get active and solve the problem.

So to further stretch this analogy, don't just kick and scream and whine about paying your taxes -- if you truly believe that your tax dollars are going to fund plasma TVs and Gucci handbags for Ronald Reagan's legendary "welfare queens," then get active, try to address specific problems. Get off your butt and investigate the circumstances, rather than just believing what you hear on the radio or read on PowerLine. Get some first-hand experience, then go to work for a political candidate who shares your views. Or better yet, run for office yourself.

Otherwise, shut up and pay your taxes.

Monday Morning Meltdown: March Madness

I was watching the hometown five take it in the shorts against top-seeded Kansas on Saturday afternoon when I had an epiphany. I turned to Mrs. Gopher, who was intermittently listening to my frequent rants, and said, "I don't think sports telecasts are produced with sports fans in mind."

The sequence that triggered my ire occurred midway through the second half, as UNLV's Joe Darger picked up his fourth and fifth fouls in about a 20-second span. Darger is basically a swingman being forced to defend the rim because the Rebels are so small this year, and his departure with 10 minutes to play was the final nail in their coffin.

So I was already ticked off, because it appeared that Darger's fourth foul was a total mirage -- an illegal screen on offense, his second of the game and a real judgment call -- and his fifth foul was an over-the-back on defense when four guys went up in a pack and the ref picked out Darger. But what really bunched my undies was the fact that CBS didn't replay either call.

Any UNLV fan knows that Darger is a huge presence (no pun intended) in their lineup, so I'm sure we all wanted some visual proof of the fouls he supposedly committed. But showing a replay of a moving screen and a scrum going for a rebound isn't good TV. The two plays were crucial to the Jayhawks' ability to run away from the Rebels the rest of the way, but we never got a second look at either of them.

If I were a conspiracy theorist (or at least a full-time conspiracy theorist) I might be tempted to say that CBS didn't want to show the replays because they would reveal the officials' incompetence, and the Big Eye is so in bed with the NCAA that it's avoiding criticism of the refs at any cost.

But I don't think it runs that deep. I don't think that much thought was put into the refusal to replay those calls. I think the producer or director just figured those plays were too wonkish, too inside-basketball for the average fan to care about them. Why replay two significant but visually forgettable plays when you can show a monster two-handed dunk for the umpteenth time? That's what the March Madness audience wants, because CBS knows the March Madness audience is composed of people who watch 90 percent of their basketball during this three-week stretch and care more about the integrity of their brackets than the integrity of the game.

Not that CBS gets it right when they do show replays. Thanks in part to the "innovations" that FOX brought to sports TV when they started covering the NFL, CBS has fallen into the trap of the ultra-closeup, making sure we can see the facial expressions and flying sweat of one or two players, rather than giving us the big picture.

For example, one of Kansas' key 3-pointers in the second half came off a kickout pass from their point guard to a sharpshooter on the wing. Said sharpshooter was wide open, and I was wondering what happened to UNLV's defense to leave him completely unguarded. Were they packing the lane to compensate for their lack of size? Did the shooter's man try to pinch the point guard and disrupt his dribble, or did he get into the wrong passing lane?

Well, the replay didn't give me any help. CBS used a camera angle that showed the back of the point guard and the face of the man guarding him -- and nothing else -- then followed the ball from the passer's hands to the shooter's hands. Then another super-extreme closeup of the shooter as he released the ball, and then the predictable shot of the ball spinning through the air, reaching the top of its arc and dropping through the hoop with a lovely swish (as if something might have happened during the flight of the shot to affect its accuracy).

It made for a wonderfully artistic piece of footage for CBS. The director's buddies probably slapped him on the back and said he was a shoe-in for the Pulitzer Prize For The Presentation Of Sports Beauty. But it didn't tell me a damn thing about why Kansas was able to score three points against UNLV on that trip down the court.

But again, sports telecasts aren't produced for me, or anybody else who cares about sports. They're produced with the big Final Four montage in mind -- you know, the One Shining Moment when CBS gets to show off their technological artistry. If you want journalism, read a newspaper.

They still publish newspapers, right?

MMM: The e-bola virus

Last week, we missed the Monday Morning Meltdown because I had contracted the e-bola virus. This week, the MMM will center on said virus, which has worn out its welcome in this house like a stoner brother-in-law who lays on the couch all day eating Funyons and watches CineMax until dawn.

Yes, the nasty little bug is still hanging on, and we're now officially on Day 9 and counting. Most of the worst symptoms have abated -- the chills, the body aches, the fever -- but I've still got the sore throat, runny nose and stuffy head. But worst of all is the chest congestion and cough that make every reasonably deep breath a potential adventure in technicolor.

Thanks to this country's fine, effed-up healthcare system, we once again had to switch doctors on Jan. 1, and I've yet to meet my new medico. I've got an initial consult set for next Tuesday (an appointment that has already been pushed back once by the office staffer who realized that she made the original appointment for me on a date when the doc won't be in the office), but I thought I'd call in today to see if there were any same-day appointments available.

Guess again. The nurse/receptionist/phone monkey I talked to this morning couldn't have been less sympathetic to my cause. Yeah, it's a virus, and yeah, you've just gotta let it run its course. Oh, you say you've had it for a week? One of the doctors here had it for three weeks. Life's rough -- wear a helmet.

So, Day 9 and still counting. If that's not meltdown-worthy, I don't know what is.

Monday Morning Meltdown: Super Bowl edition

Hard to believe that I'd have anything to rant about after scoring with a big Giants-under parlay (thanks, Smooth Jimmy!), but of course there are a few things to get off my chest regarding the action that transpired in Glendale, Ariz., last night.

First off, there was the postgame actions of Patriots coach Bill Belichick, which actually weren't postgame so much as they were prepostgame because he couldn't wait until Eli Manning had taken a final knee before he ran across the field to congratulate Tom Coughlin, then ran off the field.

Belichick is a noted jackass -- no point in recounting the spying allegations, the marital infidelity allegations, the smug press conferences, the irrational retaliation against his former assistant coaches, the tattered hoodies -- so nothing he does should surprise me. But I still was taken aback by the utter chutzpah he displayed when he refused to give the Giants their moment.

Like all megalomaniacs, Belichick has to do everything on HIS terms, and HIS terms alone. The script he wrote for this game didn't include him standing on the sidelines, watching the Giants celebrate as the clock ticked down to 0:00. So, he had to insert himself into the ultimate moment of the game, when it should have been about Coughlin, Manning, that phenomenal defensive line, and all the rest of the G-Men. Instead of talking about them, Belichick ensured that people also had to talk about his actions, whether he thought the game was over or knew there was one second left, and why he did what he did.

Memo to Belichick: IT'S NOT ALWAYS ALL ABOUT YOU!!! Thankfully, his players showed much more class and dignity as the game ended. Even Randy Moss, who knows a thing or two about leaving the field early when his team is about to lose, stuck around. Too bad the teacher never learns from the pupils in New England.

Another craw-sticker: I've heard numerous commentators breathlessly call the Giants' win last night "the biggest upset in Super Bowl history!" Ummmm ... usually, that kind of thing is subjective, so you'd have to qualify that by mentioning that it's your opinion, not a statement of fact.

But thanks to my adopted hometown, we have documented proof that this wasn't the biggest upset in Super Bowl history. The 2001 Patriots were 14-point underdogs when they beat the Rams. And in Super Bowl III, the Colts were anywhere from 17- to 22-point favorites, depending on who you're talking to, when they lost to Broadway Joe and the Jets.

Maybe it's the biggest loss in Super Bowl history, because it prevented the Pats from becoming the first 19-0 team in league history. But nothing will ever top the Jets' win over the Colts, because they were representing the upstart AFL, which most of the NFL establishment considered a minor league at the time. It's the football equivalent of USA 4, USSR 3; of Hickory High knocking off Indianapolis Central; of the Miracle Mets of 1969. You can't call it the biggest upset of all time when a number of prognosticators -- from SI's Dr. Z to Fox's Frank Caliendo (in a brilliant John Madden cameo) and even KFAN's Paul Allen -- were predicting a Giants win.

Finally, on the other side of the equation, anybody who suggests that Eli Manning's critics now owe him an apology is smoking some high-grade crack. I know I've said in the past that the Giants fans mistreated Eli when they booed him after his first incompletion, and that his superb road record at least makes a case for the argument that he feels less pressure when he's not faced with their unrealistic expectations.

But that's not the same thing as saying he's above criticism. Anybody who watched his debacle against the Vikings this year, when three of his interceptions were returned for touchdowns, had plenty of reason to cast aspersions on the youngest Manning. It's not hypocritical to now state that he had a great playoff run and deserves all the kudos he's getting.

Monday Morning Meltdown

Today, we unveil a new feature at What Happens In Henderson -- the Monday Morning Meltdown. Aside from the always popular alliteration, I wanted a clearinghouse for some of the random items that get stuck in my craw over the course of a week. And what could be a better way to start the week than with a turbo-charged, espresso-fueled, spit-flying, head-spinning rant?

This week's topic is the fallout from the ESPN roast of Mike Golic and Mike Greenberg. I know, it's a couple of weeks old, but it took awhile for my bile to overflow on this topic. But overflow it has, so buckle up and away we go...

First point: don't you actually have to have accomplished something in order to be the subject of a celebrity roast? I mean really, hosting an ESPN Radio morning show is enough to get you on the spit? That's the level to which we've sunk in the search for "celebrity" in our society? Who's next on the list to be roasted -- Star Jones? Bindi Irwin? Randy Jackson? Mark Schlereth? (Note to self: Don't give ESPN any ideas.)

But that brings us to a greater point -- this whole roast thing smacks of ESPN's desperation to make news, not just report it. The pinheads in Bristol are so enamored with themselves that to them, the idea of organizing a roast for their morning radio hosts seems perfectly natural. After all, these are the same people who invented cross-promotion, with the following "platforms" falling under their corporate umbrella: ESPN, ESPN2, ESPN Classic, ESPNU, ESPN News, ESPN Radio, ESPN the Magazine, ESPN Deportes, ESPN Zone (i.e. ESPN the Restaurant), ESPN.com, ESPN360, ESPN Books, and EXPN (action sports like the X-Games).

Think they're a little full of themselves? It reminds me a bit of when the local McDonald's franchise in my hometown started selling pizza. Of course, it didn't last, because they couldn't do pizza as well as a pizza place and still maintain focus on the burgers and the fries and the shamrock shakes. Find something that you do well and stick with it.

But the biggest thorn in my paw comes from the reaction to ESPN2 First Take host Dana Jacobsen's drunken performance on the dais as she roasted Mike and Mike. Apparently, Jacobsen had a bit too much to drink, then channeled her inner Jeffrey Ross and profanely attacked Golic's alma mater -- Notre Dame -- as well as the Catholic church in general and Jesus Himself in particular.

Oy.

But here's the deal. THAT'S WHAT YOU'RE SUPPOSED TO DO AT A ROAST!!! If you're so afraid that one of your roasters is going to step over the line and say something offensive that might ruffle the feathers of one of your corporate overlords, then don't call it a roast! Call it "The Mike and Mike Celebrity Suck-a-thon Brought To You By Disney."

Look at it another way -- without Jacobsen crossing the line, you'd be left with two hours of jokes about how Golic is a fat, stupid cretin and Greenberg is an effete, mincing metrosexual. In other words, a live version of their show.

Predictably, Jacobsen was suspended for a week and returned to the air today with yet another apology (which might or might not have been accepted by the Catholic church, which might or might not be the topic for next Monday's meltdown). To their (slight) credit, ESPN did post a story about her suspension and her return on the front page of ESPN.com, so they're not entirely trying to sweep this under the rug. Then again, it could be another sign of the creeping megalomania that's taken hold in Bristol.

Either way, ESPN, learn from this. When you lie down with dogs, you might get fleas. And when you organize a roast for two of your quasicelebrities, your sponsors might get their toes stomped on. Deal with it, or get over yourself. Or both.