That means if you chose 64 random drunks at a sports bar, 64 dart-throwing monkeys, whatever — 63 of them would do a better job picking NBA Finals winners than Stephen A. Smith.
(FYI, the “dart-throwing monkey” is a go-to metric in assessing investment portfolios. Follow the above link if you don’t know what I mean. It’s not a racial reference.)
But Stephen A. Smith is exactly right about Kevin Durant. The Thunder blew a 3-1 lead to the Warriors and lost a series that they should have won and Durant sells out his teammates and signs on with the team that beat them.
It’s unfathomable. It’s like Magic Johnson going to the Celtics or Kobe Bryant going to the Spurs or Larry Bird or Tim Duncan going to the Lakers.
A superstar in his prime does not do this. A competitor does not sell out his teammates like this.
University of Connecticut head women’s basketball coach Geno Auriemma
High School Boy Wins All-State Honors In Girls Track And Field — The Daily Caller
Girls will be boys and boys will be girls, it’s a mixed-up, muddled-up, shook-up world . . .
I’m actually old enough to remember when female athletes were disqualified if they turned out to be male.
Self-identification, i.e., if a boy says he’s a girl then he’s a girl, could take women’s sports in a crazy direction, given that males are better than females at any sport I can think of.
For example, if a women’s college basketball coach wants to end the UConn dynasty, why not suit up a team of transsexuals, i.e., men who “identify” as women? Other teams would have to follow suit in order to be competitive.
The only downside I can think of is that there would soon be few (maybe zero) biological women playing college basketball in America, or any other college sport.
You know, you spend your childhood watching TV, assuming that a some point in the future everything you see there will one day happen to you: that you too will win a Formula One race, hop a train, foil a group of terrorists, tell someone ‘Give me the gun,’ etc. Then you start secondary school and suddenly everyone’s asking you about your career plans and your long-term goals, and by goals they don’e mean the kind you are planning to score in the FA Cup. Gradually the awful truth dawns on you: that Santa Claus was just the tip of the iceberg — that your future will not be the rollercoaster ride you’d imagined, that the world occupied by your parents, the world of washing the dishes, going to the dentist, weekend trips to the DIY superstore to buy floor tiles is actually largely what people mean when they speak of ‘life.’ Now, with every day that passes, another door seems to close, the one marked PROFESSIONAL STUNTMAN or FIGHT EVIL ROBOT, until the weeks go by and the doors — GET BITTEN BY SNAKE, SAVE WORLD FROM ASTEROID, DISMANTLE BOMB WITH SECONDS TO SPARE — keep closing, you begin to hear the sound as a good thing, and start closing some yourself, even ones that didn’t necessarily need to be closed . . .
26 experts give their predictions for the championship series rematch between the Warriors and Cavaliers. — ESPN.com
Provide some insight or context if you have any. How does a prediction add to anyone’s understanding or enjoyment of the game? What is the difference between a prediction from an “expert” and a prediction from a random loudmouth drunk at a sports bar?
I notice that a large majority of the “experts” are predicting a victory by the favorite (the Warriors), which is the same result you’d get from a bunch of drunks at a sports bar, or a group of dart-throwing monkeys (of course adjusting the monkeys’ targets to provide a proportionally larger area for the favorite).
Man, am I sick of people who get offended on behalf of a group they don’t belong to, projecting their own phony outrage on the group members and their own biases on non-group members.
In light of the poll results, non-Native American opponents of the Redskin name seem to have changed their position slightly to say that Native Americans are in fact being offended but are too dumb to realize it.
I was walking west on Durant crossing Telegraph a block south of the UC Berkeley campus (see map below) when I saw a couple of good-looking yellow labs, probably less than a year old, crossing in the other direction.
I was so focused on the dogs that I didn’t notice until I had passed them that they were being walked by none other than the chancellor of the university, Nicholas B. Dirks, and his wife.
Gee, I wish I had gotten a photo with him but rather than run back across the street after him like a nut, I walked north to Bancroft and turned right to parallel the way he was walking on Durant. At the next street, Bowditch, I turned right again toward Durant to see if I could intercept him, which I did.
I’m staying at the Berkeley Lab Guest House, a university facility . . . when I got back to the place, I showed my Dirks photo to the guy at the front desk.
“Recognize this guy?” I asked. “Not me, the other guy.”
Does anyone have a more useless job than “bracketologist” Joe Lunardi? He spends the entire college basketball season forecasting tournament seedings: this team’s in, this team’s out, this team’s on the bubble, this team is going to be seeded number whatever . . .
Then the season ends and the actual tournament seedings are announced, making all of Joe Lunardi’s work meaningless. Either the actual seedings line up closely with Joe Lunardi’s predictions or they don’t, but other than Joe Lunardi, who cares?
The committee’s performance is slipping, year over year, and it’s my job to point that out when necessary. . . . what you have is a selection and bracketing process that appears to have gone off the rails.
Actually Joe, your job, if I understand it correctly, is to accurately forecast the results of the selection committee. It’s not the job of the selection committee to match your predictions. And if your predictions don’t match the actual selections, that doesn’t indicate that the selection committee sucks, it indicates that you suck.
You probably know people like Cam Newton, co-workers maybe, who like to call attention to themselves — Look at me! Look what I did! — and like to rub your nose in it when things aren’t going well for you.
I don’t like people like that.
I don’t think a choreographed activity has to take place every time you make a first down. I saw a game this year where Newton threw a screen pass to a receiver, who ran 50 yards with it for a touchdown. Newton ran all the way to the end zone to perform a choreographed celebration, not with his teammates, but standing all by himself. Look at me! And he really hadn’t done anything. He threw a screen pass.
I recommend that he develop some choreographed activities for losing, for interceptions and for fumbles that lead to touchdowns for the other team . . . like an Oopsie Face, or rotating his fists in front of his eyes like he’s wiping away imaginary tears . . .
As further evidence, he cites “the Detroit Pistons who walked off the court with time remaining in the 1991 NBA playoff loss to Michael Jordan’s Chicago Bulls, Cincinnati coach Bob Huggins refusing to shake Xavier coach Pete Gillen’s hand at the end of the 1994 Crosstown Shootout, LeBron James walking off without a handshake in the 2009 conference finals against Orlando and Indiana coach Tom Crean’s harangue of Michigan assistant Jeff Meyer following a 2013 regular season game.”
Ha ha, that’s great stuff! That’s the argument against the handshake line?! We need more of that . . . it’s a good thing for all of us.
Carol Dweck’s research is part of a tradition in psychology that shows the power of people’s beliefs. These may be beliefs that we’re aware of or unaware of but they strongly affect what we want and whether we succeed in getting it. This tradition also shows how changing people’s beliefs can have profound effects.
Dweck’s insight into fixed mindset (bad) vs. growth mindset (good) is powerful but there’s really not enough to it to sustain a book-length exposition without a lot of repetition and illustrational anecdotes, the problem with which is 1) they tend to be overly simple tales of triumph and failure with clearly identified causes; and 2) they ignore the inevitability of regression.
Don’t get me wrong here, I think Dweck’s work is insightful and illuminating, I just don’t think it works well as a book. For a shorter introduction, try, for example, “The Secret to Raising Smart Kids,” recently published in Scientific American.