Personally, I find it charming that South Africa has found a way to survive the incessant drone of most World Cup futbol matches with something lively and just as droning. Hey, if it annoys the French, it’s OK by me.

The attention given to the vuvu during this year’s World Cup has led to at least 20 apps being produced for the iPhone. Five of them are free and they range from being able to shake your phone and produce that deep buzzing sound to having to actually blow into the microphone of the phone until you develop smokers cough trying to reach the upper limit of vuvuzela nirvana.

Now that we can take this horn anywhere, I’m thinking that it should be introduced to other sports and we should not be dissuaded from last week’s Florida Marlins promotion.

The Masters: Picture the azaleas in bloom next spring with the carpet like green of Augusta National putting on its most spectacular show. Phil Mickelson and Tiger Woods are knotted at minus-5 heading to Amen Corner during Sunday’s round. Tensions are high and then …

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!!!!!!!

The hundreds of patrons resting at the apex of the 11th fairway and 12th tee box come alive like swarm of killer bees hoping unnerve the fearsome twosome. Tiger recalls that sound from the fan in the walk-in cooler at a Orlando-area Perkins Restaurant. The vuvuzelas do their thing as Tiger dips his tee shot on 12 in the water faster than you can scream, “Hey look, isn’t that Joslyn James!?!”

World Series of Poker: Shelly “’Bama Bones” McManus, a recovering meth addict from Muscle Shoals, has made an unprecedented run to the Main Event Final Table of Texas Holdem and is staring down Phil Ivey to take the bracelet. She raises 320k; her stoic poker face slightly twitches. Ivey thinks she’s bluffing and raises her even though he’s only holding ace, nine off. McManus looks poised to capture the kitty when the flop puts her in position for a flush, as she’s holding pocket eights. As the turn hits the table…

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!!!!!!!

The noise doesn’t really phase anyone as they are too drunk/stoned to care. Norman Chad did rise from his couch, but only to duck under the table and hold his hands tight to his ears. FIFA begins coaxing WSOP professionals into taking referee positions in Africa, abandoning their recruitment campaign in Mali.

Olympic Curling: A paunchy Canadian with advanced male-pattern baldness is attempting to throw a block to keep the ambitious team from Costa Rica from one of the world’s biggest upsets in frozen shuffleboard. All of Manitoba is glued to their ice shanty TV sets as they wet their hooks in hopes of bringing up another walleye. On an adjacent rink the South African team is tied with the USA going into the final round. As he hurls the stone toward the house the South Africans make a strategic play and…

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!!!!!!!

The Canadian stone ends up as a hogger when the sweepers lose their concentration and slip on the ice, one of them impaling himself on a broomstick. The moment yields the highest ratings in curling history; ice shanties across Lake Winnipeg shake off of their hoists, breaking the ice, and drowning 26 inebriated fisherman.

Westminster Kennel Club Dog Show: The tension in Madison Square Garden is so thick you could cut it with a Korean butcher knife. The judges are ready to crown another canine diva as the Best in Show competition is underway. Bouillabaisse’s Best Bling, a Scottish Terrier, is the favorite heading into the final round. “Introducing, ladies and gentlemen, the seven finalists for this year’s Best in Show. The winner of the sporting group, Brittany Number 22…

Bzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz!!!!!!!!!
The arena erupts in the sound of terrified howling not seen since Michael Vick’s re-creation a WWE Monday Night Raw grudge match at the back of his Virginia estate. The Brittany breaks free and bites two of the judges, chews a toy poodle in half, and mounts a long-haired dachshund, thus sealing the deal and handing the crown to the Bloodhound who is completely un-phased by the annoying hum in the air.

PETA issues a decree the following day announcing their intent to rid the world of the vuvuzela. Congress then announces hearings the next week in which they will bring bank, fast food and oil executives together to collectively blame them for all of the ills of society, including the vuvuzela. The political momentum motivates President Obama to sign an Executive Order immediately outlawing the use of vuvuzela’s at every event except the Republican National Convention and he heads off to get in a round of golf before attending that evening’s Steven Strasburg start for the Nationals.

Hal Holbrook’s career as a pitchman is over. Miracle Ear’s share drop by 75 percent. Railroad horn makers claim their spot at the top of the decibel market again. Nations rejoice. And the English tabloids blame their team’s poor performance on vuvuzela-induced vertigo.

Slovenia is the little guy on the World Cup stage, a nation that slipped away from Yugoslavia and Slobodan Milosovic in the early 1990s to establish its own economy and eventually become part of the European Union. It’s a story not that dissimilar from the United States more than 200 years ago.

The night before the US-Slovenija match I wore the jersey to a local sports joint to watch game 7 of the Lakers-Celtics series with some friends. It’s green and white to match the Celtics’ colors. My wife quipped that wearing a Slovenija jersey could be considered un-American, to which I replied, “Soccer is un-American.”

To the ears of a soccer thump this would be akin to heresy because they wouldn’t think of the positive connotations of such a statement.

Every four years at World Cup time we enter into some type of national debate about the prominence of soccer in the United States. And every four years we end up in the same place: Soccer is relegated to a secondary sport on the national scene once we rev up for American football season and the baseball playoffs.

But that’s not a bad thing.

Deep down, even though they won’t admit it, our country’s staunchest soccer advocates aficionados freaks like it that way. And it’s the best characteristic about soccer in this country.

Over the past 20 years we’ve gotten away from roots sports in America. NASCAR was once a regional acquired taste confined mostly to the South; now it struggles for ratings as the circuit’s leadership has abandoned its base. The NHL remains strong in its traditional cities but has been weakened by a desire to force it upon markets in the Sun Belt to the point that the idea of moving a team back to now viable set of Canadian markets is a non-starter for the league’s management. The recent near-collapse of the traditional college football conference arrangement might have meant more short-term financial gains but would have likely eroded over the long-term the sense of pride that many non-professional sports markets and states have in their college programs.

The soccer establishment in the United States shouldn’t want that to happen to the sport, as it most likely would be co-opted by these same “market” forces were it to ascend to one of the top four or five slots that Americans tend to reserve for their sports passions.

In the early 2000s I had the experience of working as a sports writer and covering two seasons of professional sports in the Chicago region. Being a life-long fan of Chicago teams (sans the Pale Hose) I had the time of my life spending summers at Wrigley Field, working the Bears’ clubhouse following a game, and covering the Bulls in the House that Jordan Built.

But I found the most pleasure in covering Major League Soccer games and the Chicago Fire at Soldier Field. The players were real. They were approachable. They were friendly (except when stepping on Hristo Stoichkov’s shower shoes). It also didn’t hurt that the Fire were also the best professional sports team in Chicago in that era.

Former international stars (Stoichkov and Piotr Nowak) and future members of US World Cup teams (Carlos Bocanegra and DaMarcus Beasley) could walk around downtown Chicago and nobody would notice them. Heck, the sportswriters covering them had a hard enough time picking them apart when they were down to their skivvies.

In 2010, Major League Soccer has quietly evolved into a stable professional sports league in the United States. They strategically pick their markets and know where they can fill a niche. Try getting a Seattle Sounders ticket these days when they open up 35,000 seats at the Seahawks’ Qwest Field.

There were seasons in the 1990s when MLS teams were chastised because they played in 80,000-seat NFL palaces and the place looked empty when they would only sell it to 25% of capacity. Few people stopped to think that a professional sports team drawing 15,000 to 20,000 fans a game was on par or greater than some NHL or NBA franchises. Now many MLS franchises have their own stadiums with a seating capacity in this range. Portland, Oregon, is in the midst of a debate about whether to turn over its Triple-A baseball stadium to a MLS team and drop-kick America’s pastime right out of town.

So ponder this:

If soccer was quintessentially American then we would be bombarded with two months of speculation related to how companies were jockeying to buy 30 seconds of ad space (or small patches of jersey space) for millions of dollars leading up to whatever version we would have of a soccer Super Bowl.

If soccer was American to-the-core then we would have to succumb to lengthy commercials during the course of play that would be disguised as timeouts instead of the pleasures of more than 45 minutes of unimpeded strategy.

If soccer was the American Dream we would have to subject ourselves to its version of Dick Vitale, the Pittsburgh Pirates, LeBron-mania, Tiger Woods, and Jerry Jones.

If soccer was like Chevrolet and apple pie we would have to sit patiently through several games per year on ESPN so they could focus all of their attention on a MLS rivalry directed solely at TV markets in the northeastern United States.

Soccer is un-American. And that’s a very good thing.

At least that is the reputation of the Big 10 conference over the past decade as they’ve been reluctant to change and bypassed by the SEC and Big 12 as the premier football conference after each organized enough teams, that being 12, to conduct an annual conference championship game. With conference championship games rising in stature to the degree that players, coaches, alumni and fans value a victory in these games just below a berth in the BCS national championship and above any other bowl appearance, including BCS games.

Enter the Big Tent.

This week the Big 10, which really includes 11 teams but had as few as nine member schools during World War II, announced its desire to find a 12^th suitor over the next 18 months to round out the conference and create more problems for elementary math students and those hoping to gain entry to Ohio State University, where entrance exams for football players in the Woody Hayes era included the question “How many teams are in the Big 10?”

Queue the Big Tentacle.

The reverberations of this addition will create a domino effect for the Pac 10 and Big East to build to 12 teams so as to not lose ground against the four BCS conferences (ACC, Big 12, SEC and Big 10) that would then boast a conference championship. For proponents of a playoff system, the ramifications could weaken their argument as conferences will weed-out some national championship contenders through upsets and strengthen others through monumental victories.

Here are TeflonDon’s predictions for how this realignment will sort itself out over the next three years.

Candidates for the Big 10⁺¹⁺¹

Top Choice: Notre Dame. It should not be incumbent on the Big 10 to pursue the Irish, rather Notre Dame should be knocking on the door of the Big 10 offices in Chicago begging for a spot at the table. Notre Dame has knocked itself off of its lofty perch as one of college football’s elite schools as its independent schedule and lack of focus in recruiting have hampered its ability to compete at the national level and offer students the kind of experience offered at Big 12 or SEC school where players can play in a warmer climate and a conference championship game.

 Opponents of this will argue that it is too difficult for Notre Dame to re-shuffle its NBC TV contract.  Bah. The NBC contract is the main reason this marriage should be consummated. The Big 10 needs a big network to pitch its teams as has occurred with CBS and the SEC. Having a random primetime game on ABC and noontime duels on ESPN and ESPN2 just doesn’t cut it.

Notre Dame would easily be the choice to showcase on the NBC national Big 10 game several times a year when they play Ohio State, Michigan or Penn State in conference games and USC in a non-conference game. Additionally, there will always be another Big 10 team in the national rankings when they face Notre Dame, which would make it another marquee match-up.

Other Candidates:

Pittsburgh. The city identifies itself more as a Midwestern town than the locations of its sister universities in the Big East. It would also seal the state of Pennsylvania for the Big 10, strengthen a natural rivalry with Penn State, and project the Big 10 image closer to the east coast.

Syracuse. The only other candidate from the Big East would be the Orange. Unlike Pittsburgh, it is truly a Big East school but, like Pitt, it would stretch the Big 10 tentacles into the New York City and the Northeast similar to what would occur with the addition of Notre Dame, albeit not as forcefully.

Long Shots:

Louisville or Cincinnati. These schools sit at the southern edge of Big 10 country but have strong ties to the region. Cincinnati has risen to the top of the Big East, but doesn’t have the facilities to accommodate the big names of the Big 10 during football and basketball season. Louisville is building a new basketball arena and has a new football stadium, a premier basketball program and a football program that shows it can occasionally compete the big time programs.

Missouri. Rumors were swirling 10 years ago that Mizzou would be interested in joining the Big 10. They have a strong historic presence in the former Big 8 and ties to other schools in the north division that make this less of a possibility. However, Missouri struggles to compete for recruits with Nebraska and Oklahoma, which raid the Kansas City metropolitan area every year. The Big 10 tie may be strong enough to counter these recruiting assaults.

Candidates for the new Pac 10⁺²

Top Choice: Utah and BYU. The rivals in the annual Holy War come as a package deal with facilities that rival or surpass other Pac 10 schools (see Washington State, Oregon State and Cal). The Utes and Cougars have long been recognized as elite western programs that have transcended the drawbacks of their former alliance with the WAC and now with the Mountain West Conference. The Utes have won two BCS games and played in the national championship game in basketball under Rick Majerus in 1998.

The Pac 10 has the most geographically relevant set of rivalry games of any conference in the country, with longtime bitter rivals being located in the same state or metropolitan area – Washington/Washington State, Oregon/Oregon State, Cal/Stanford, USC/UCLA, Arizona/Arizona State. Adding Utah and BYU to the mix continues this tradition and would make for a very exciting rivalry weekend as a stage for teams seeking a berth in the Pac 10 championship game.

Long Shots: UNLV and San Diego State. These schools might have been the favorites as 10 or 15 years ago when both were more prominent on the national college sports scene. The lack of facilities and sharing of football stadiums with other uses is a major drawback, plus it creates an awkward match-up as a rivalry during the final weekend of the regular season.

Candidates for the Big East

Finding four additional teams to join the league will only be made worse for the Big East if Pitt or Syracuse dart to the Big 10. This would leave the Big East with seven teams and in need of five more to get to the required 12. If Notre Dame is not the Big 10 choice, don’t look for them to be too eager to join the Big East as the Irish have done for all of their other sports.

So who do they get? Their only choice is to raid Conference USA and run the risk of weakening the conference in the eyes of the polls, fans and the powers that grant them BCS status.

The field of candidates looks like this (and none are very appetizing): East Carolina, Memphis, Marshall, and Central Florida should be at the top of the list if they need four teams and have any hope of keeping it “east”. You can make a case that all are respectable in at least one major sport. Any of these schools would leap at the opportunity and the Big East can’t afford to be very picky, particularly following the addition of South Florida and Connecticut, which were also respectable in at least one sport but did not have big time caché. 

E…lin…caught Tiger chasin’ tail, it’s plain to see;
She swung a club and then he hit a tree;
Well, his Caddy’s wrecked and his life is in the pail.
Looks like we’ve got Tiger chasin’ tail.

Well, we thought the day we saw you, you were gonna pass Jack;
You were more than just some other golfing hack.
But now, the girls you’re shaggin’ makes nineteen look derailed.
And it looks we’ve got Tiger chasin’ tail.

E…lin…caught Tiger chasin’ tail, it’s plain to see;
He won’t have much when she takes custody.
Well, he losin’ cred with ev’ry blonde bombshell.
Looks like we’ve got Tiger chasin’ tail.

Well, every week you fly off to where slick greens are found;
There weren’t no way Phil takes you down.
You were so horny that you hooked a Perkins hobnail.
And it looks like we’ve got Tiger chasin’ tail.

E..lin…caught Tiger chasin’ tail it’s plain to see;
Say goodbye to AmEx and Nike.
Gatorade has pulled you from its sales.
All because that Tiger chased some tail.  

Pardon me if I excuse Boise State and TCU from this dictum just this once.

The Broncos and their stable of loons, as well as the Horned Frogs and its knot of know-it-alls, erupted in a collective croak Monday in the wake of news that the two schools would square-off in a rematch of the 2008 Poinsettia Bowl played in Hermosillo, Mexico, er, San Diego. Only this time they will travel to Glendale, Arizona for the Tostitos Fiesta Bowl at University of Phoenix Stadium, not far from Phoenix and the Tostitos Fiesta Bowl’s former homestead at Sun Devil Stadium in Tempe, also not far from Phoenix.

They might as well re-name it the Quizno’s Mid-Major Clash at the Big Toaster Oven.

Mmm, Mmm, Mmm, Mmm, Mmm. Mostly.

A united ho-hum filled the air in living rooms across the country as legions of college football fans heard the announcement. What the public wanted, the BCS was assured not to deliver. We should know that by now even as we yearn for the opportunity to see another mid-major school knock one of the Big Boys off their roost, as Utah did last year to Alabama and Boise State did a few years ago to Oklahoma.

TCU and Boise State are not the victims of some vast conspiracy against the non-BCS conferences. That would imply there is some level of secrecy to the whole charade and we know those are only organized against the Clintons, members of the Kennedy family and Tiger Woods’ sext-message-o-the-week recipients.

They are simply the victim of greed disguised as higher education, a model adopted and perfected by the Ivy League over the past 200 years and adapted for football by the six major conferences over the past 12 seasons. Let the whine and kickers flow.

THIS POST HAS BEEN INTERRUPTED FOR THIS ANNOUNCEMENT: Rarely have I ever sided with fans of Boise State in their annual delusional and incessant whine and cheese party following bowl selection day. Honestly, one year they tried to argue that a one-loss Boise State team still deserved a BCS bowl birth. Puh-leeze. Having lived in Boise for six years I can say that BroncoNation is synonymous with the highest degree of whining one can find in college ball, including those emanating from Clemson, South Carolina or Athens, Georgia. NOW BACK TO THE REGULARLY SCHEDULED BLOG POST BITCHING ABOUT SOMETHING…WHAT WAS IT?…OH, YEAH…The Siesta Bowl, brought to you by AmbienCR.

The BCS - the Augusta National Golf Club of college football - simply wanted nothing to do with having egg on its face, especially when it could have realistically happened twice in one year had TCU been paired with Georgia Tech in the Orange Bowl and Boise State matched with Iowa in the Fiesta Bowl.

The BCS didn’t want to run the risk of there being four undefeated teams at the end of this year’s five elite games (the winner of Alabama/Texas, Cincinnati over Florida, and BSU and TCU over their respective opponents).

The BCS member schools wanted no part of a potentially embarrassing outcome for fellow members such as Georgia Tech and Iowa, thus giving non-BCS schools a chance to expand on their respectable 3-1 record in BCS games; two wins by Utah, one by Boise State and Hawaii’s lost to Georgia.

BTW, Notre Dame is 0-3, Michigan 1-3, Florida State 1-5, and Oklahoma 2-5 in their BCS showdowns.

Both BSU and TCU are undefeated, boast impressive resumes heading into the bowl season, and have been at the top of list of BCS troublemakers in recent years (Utah, included) that are screaming for some level of justice or playoff system in college football.

“Play tougher opponents,” they’ve been told. Check.

“If one of you happens to be good enough to break the top 12 in the BCS standings, then we’ll let you in.” Uh, yessir. Did you see that we both finished the season ranked in the top 6?

“Well, uh, you need to be in a stronger conference.” Ahem, TCU beat #14 BYU and #23 Utah during the course of its schedule against the Mountain West, which has just as many teams in the BCS top 25 as the ACC, SEC, Big East and Big 12.

The only thing left is, particularly for the Mountain West, is for it to receive some type of recognition akin to most favored nation status. Instead they are the Burkina Faso of college football.

What’s the next excuse of the BCS? I’m sure it will be creative and pronounced by somebody with a PhD after their name.

The BCS was deliberate in coaching the choices of their members games, even as they claim that each bowl is “independent” in its selection process. The cadre of special bowls knew their role and played it well.

The BCS was purposeful in its actions to align the two undefeated non-BCS schools to try and package it as something special. They are well aware that the low television ratings that will come as a result of two non-BCS schools will help them continue make their case about its exclusion policy when it comes to splitting its annual mega-millions jackpot.

Like any fine whine, this annual football farce called the BCS only gets better with time.

TCU beats Boise State, 28-17.

Setting: Elementary School.

An ad clip opens with a 7-year old boy of a non-descript race stating: “I am Tiger Woods!”

(Background music is a chorus of highly pitched Gregorian chants)

The camera then pans to a shot of the kid hitting golf balls at a driving range, followed by shots of him and his friends carrying golf bags through city streets.

“I am Tiger Woods,” each of them states emphatically, including a cute little blond-haired girl.  

From there, the scene shifts to the classroom where the kid is being passed a folded note from a sly looking red-headed girl sitting behind the 7-year old boy in class.

The kid sheepishly opens the folded note to see two check boxes, one labeled “yes”, the other “no”. Above that it is scribbled in blue crayon: “Do you luve me? XOXOXO”

The camera then pans to the next row of students where the blond is now a perturbed little girl, tapping her foot and giving the 7-year old boy the stink eye.

The next shot is at recess where this perturbed girl is chasing the boy from his bike with a toy golf club in her hand. He hands her his lunch money.

From there, the camera shows the boy “cooling off” his busted lip by letting cold water from the hallway water fountain flow while he leans over it.

His best friend is then seen trying to tell the teacher what happened, explaining that it was a bike accident caused when he hit a tree root near the swing set. The teacher is skeptical but gives him a pass, agreeing to punish him by only making him sit out next recess.

The blond-headed little girl is then shown counting her lunch money.   

The final scene is of the black-eyed kid, barely being able to talk through his swollen lip: “I um Tibuh Bwoods.”

Fade to black.

Now that would be some fine cinema.

Struggling through one of their worst seasons since 1996, the Bulldogs’ mascot, in only his second season of service to the program, succumbed to a massive heart attack at his home in Savannah. He was 28 years old (that’s four human years).

Some SEC pundits are already speculating that Uga VII’s demise was partially due to Richt’s undying loyalty to coordinator Martinez, who is the proverbial fire hydrant for SEC offenses.  Others are suggesting Uga VII was still reeling from UGA donning black helmets for the Florida game last month.

Lucky for him, No. 7 only had to see two Florida-Georgia games, a border war that has more recently resembled the rivalry between dog and bone.

Simply, Uga VII (whose real name was Loran’s Best) couldn’t handle the pressure of following a legend.

Ray Goff couldn’t swing it after Vince Dooley. Uga VII was no match for Uga VI. His predecessor, registered as Uga V’s Whatchagot Loran, was the winningest Uga in UGA history with a lifetime record of 87-27. His epitaph at the Sanford Stadium Uga mausoleum reads: A Tough Dog for a Tough Job.

Lift a leg to that.

How could version No. 7—a number that is supposed to be lucky–possibly live up to that? Well, he couldn’t.

Media Blitz

The most fascinating aspect of the 24 hours following the death of Uga VII has been the media coverage that has stopped just short of issuing a full-page obituary in the Atlanta Journal-Constitution.

The Seiler family, who has overseen the Uga lineage since the 1950s, is still too emotional to speak publicly, choosing to dispatch a relative to respond to media inquiries.

Swann Seiler, the Seiler’s daughter said this to the Atlanta Journal Consitution: “Mother woke up this morning and said she thought Uga didn’t feel too good…Daddy got up with him and he could tell something was wrong. We have a vet that’s practically on-call just for Uga and he was there in five minutes. They took him to a hospital quick as they could but he didn’t make it.”

Uga VII’s death was the lead story at the top of the AJC’s web site late Thursday evening, as news of the English Bulldog’s demise spread through the Georgia community and probably prompted church bells to ring from Hahira to Chickamauga. The AJC’s first posting Friday morning had the traditional story byline, but also included a line at the end of the story indicating that two other writers had contributed to the detailed.

Three writers, in the midst of the death of newspaper and journalism, contributed to a 700-word story about the death of a dog. This particularly story was entitled “Seiler family devastated by Uga VII’s unexpected death.”  And they wonder why newspapers are having such financial trouble? The AJC has yet to get quote from Bo, the White House dog, on his emotions since hearing of Uga’s passing.

By 12:30 pm Friday, the AJC had issued another story to state that Uga VII would be buried in a ceremony before before Saturday’s Kentucky-UGA game in Athens.

BTW, it will be a private ceremony.  Friends and AKC-registered family only. The Obama’s dog Bo has yet to commit to attending the wake and nosy sources say he is leaning toward licking himself that afternoon, instead.  

But this pales in comparison to what’s happening in Uga’s own backyard (junkyard?) of Athens, Georgia.

Here are the headlines from today’s the Athens Banner-Herald:

A shocking loss: Bulldog Nation mourns sudden death of Uga VII… Uga VII’s team takes it hard…Police chase down naked UGA student.

Scratchin’ for a Replacement

Turns out Uga VII’s passing was also bad timing for the Dawgs, who only have one day to prepare for the Kentucky game, meaning that there will be no mascot on the sidelines for this weekend’s game—a first for a game in Athens since 1956. Previously, Georgia has allowed substitute mascots to roam the sidelines until a new Uga was named. Ted Kennedy had this rule altered when he thought John Kerry would be named mascot back in 2004.

Wheels are in motion for a change to this law in time for the season finale against Georgia Tech and whatever second tier bowl game invites the Dogs.

The only question that remains is when a new Uga will named to pee on the hedges and lunge toward Auburn receivers. Sources say a new Uga will be chosen early in 2010. We will only know when that has occurred when white smoke emerges from Uga’s air-conditioned luxury dog house.

But UGA better be aware of the America’s infatuation with political correctness. See, by rule, an Uga can only be pure white, which might raise the hackles of diversity advocates within the canine community. Little was made of past substitute Ugas who were not allowed to have the ultimate honor bestowed upon them because they had brown spots or a brown tip on their tail. Such was the case with Otto, an Uga stand-in during the 1986 season. That was then.

If ever there was time for the Dawgs to wear black, it would be Saturday’s Kentucky game.

Not in Rio, mind you, but at Oak Street Beach.

It took more than 100 years, but Chicago’s long-standing culture of corruption, kickbacks and graft finally doomed the City on the most visible international stage since Upton Sinclair published The Jungle in 1906. Packingtown and its homegrown President were sent packing by the IOC and Mayor Richard J. Daley doesn’t like that at all. 

Daley said this to reporters when the Second City finished fourth: “It’s already in this hemisphere, with Rio, and it would not make sense for an American city to try again in 2020.”

Already in this hemisphere? This is coming from a mayor who shuttered at the idea of the Bears playing in Schaumburg or Gary, Indiana. Had he thought it would have helped, Daley would have reversed the flow of the city’s main tributary and renamed it Rio de Chicago.

Ironically, one of the many books written about Daley’s father and his political machine was titled “Don’t Make No Waves; Don’t back no losers.”

The International Olympic Committee must have ordered a few copies.

“This was not a political gamble,” a dejected Daley said after Chicago first round elimination.

He’s right: Chicago doesn’t gamble. The fix is always in. Only this time it backfired - big time.

See, the city’s broad-shouldered image for propping up backroom deals and politically greasing the skids for everything from airport booksellers to stadium deals for the Sox and Bears swayed the IOC so much that it swiftly eliminated the City that Works in the first round of its Final Four competition. Chicago as a whipping boy for the IOC, the all-of-a-sudden moral compass of athletic competition? Ouch.

After widespread reports of graft gripped the IOC following revelations about the wooing of the games to Atlanta and Salt Lake, is it any surprise the committee shied away from a city and state that practices such under-the-table deals so unashamedly on a grand scale, on a daily basis?

Can you blame the IOC for not wanting to award a prize as grand as the Olympics to a city that propped up a corrupt governor who tried to sell the President’s Senate seat; routinely employs patronage lifeguards at city parks that do not have swimming pools; and can’t come to an agreement between the Mayor and his self-appointed City Council members on who exactly should make financial decisions regarding the Olympic Games?

For all of its grumbling about being the “Second City”, Chicago has been more than content for several decades in allowing the focus of the national media to steer clear of the city’s shortcomings when it comes to conducting politics fair and square. The Machine purposesly avoids national political office because the local pols can’t project what they feel is their birthright to strong arm foes into submission on such a grand scale.

Barack Obama overcame his Chicago connections and snubbed the local political establishment by successfully running for President despite being reared and nurtured in a political machine that has for a long time discouraged ascension to national office.

The events at the 1969 Democratic National Convention pushed Chicago into a dark cave from which it has taken it 40 years to emerge. Now it’s time for re-entry. The egos have landed.

While Rod Blagojevich brought national attention to the Chicago way, Richard J. Daley was praying that a successful Olympic bid would be the cure to re-focus the national spotlight that is now shining into Chicago’s back alleys. He now stands alongside Jane Byrne, who failed to bring a Formula 1 Grand Prix race to Chicago during her time in office.

Now the only sports streak in Chicago longer than the Cubs’ World Series drought is it’s Olympic desires, going on 112 years and counting. Chicago won its bid for the 1904 games but succumbed to pressure from St. Louis, which feared the games would interfere with the World’s Fair and threatened to conduct a rival sports competition. Chicago also lost its Olympic bid to Helsinki in 1952. 

First St. Louis, then Helsinki, and now the girl from Ipanema. Perhaps the Machine needs more grease.

NASCAR is on the brink of becoming what it was: a regional anomaly. Unfortunately, it’s regional draw (drawl?) is already eroding in the breadbasket of stock car auto racing, namely western North Carolina and other parts of the Southeast, due to a decade worth of poor marketing and growth decisions.

Here’s what NASCAR can do to get back its swagger.

1. Admit You Have a Problem: Every sports league has been eager to blame its present-day travails on the lackluster economy, citing the low ratings and tepid ticket sales as just another side effect of job losses and declining investments. Sorry, that excuse doesn’t work. Venues like Chicago, Atlanta and New Hampshire have been struggling to sell out their dates for the last four or five years, long before the economy went in the tank. While the NFL is struggling this year to sell tickets, you can bet that its ratings will not suffer to the same degree.

2. Acknowlege Dale Earnhardt, Jr. as a Bust: Who would’ve thought we would witness the second-coming of Kyle Petty when Junior hit NASCAR’s senior circuit in 2000 after dominating the Busch Series? The intimidated Junior currently sits 21st in the Spring Cup standings, well outside the cut line for this year’s Chase. He was supposed to be stronger after leaving DEI for the greener pastures at Hendrick. Despite his mediocrity, he remains NASCAR’s most popular driver, but for how long?

3. Fisticuffs are a Desirable Trait: The fistfight between Cale Yarborough and Donnie Allison to close out the 1979 Daytona 500 put NASCAR on the map and help kickstart demand for the sport outside the South. Now those kind of antics will get you a seat in the NASCAR trailer, wearing a dunce cap and touching your nose to a high spot on the chalkboard. Any driver who shows a hint of feistiness is immediately put on notice. This isn’t Catholic school. A knock down, drag out between Tony Stewart and Kyle Busch would help launch the sport again (if they weren’t docked 100 points).

4. Quebec? Mais Non!: While I’m sure the Canadians enjoyed having a Nationwide Series race in Montreal, NASCAR should leave big time auto racing in the Great White North for open wheel series like IRL and Formula One. That changed when NASCAR’s manifest destiny business plan seized CASCAR in 2006 and necessitated some type of major series race in Canada. Sorry, it doesn’t work.

5. Get Back to Wilkesboro: North Wilkesboro Speedway sits like a forgotten relic along US Highway 421 in the western North Carolina mountains. I’m sure the show Life After People will soon be using it to shoot an episode or two. Despite the condition of the track that represented the heart and soul of stock car racing before it was co-opted by greedy track owners in Texas and New Hampshire, NASCAR needs to figure out a way to funnel some resources to the track, find an owner who will respect the facility, and move the Nationwide race from Montreal to North Wilkesboro. Understandably, the return of a Spring Cup Series race might not be in the cards, but a combined Nationwide-Truck Series weekend would draw folks from several hundred miles and easily sell out the venue.

6. It’s the National Association for Stock Car Auto Racing: That’s right, stock. S-T-O-C-K. Remember what that means? Take away the vinyl stickers and every vehicle today is a carbon copy of NASCAR’s preferred template. The organization continues to hide behind its veil of safety to justify the move toward symmetrical race cars, alienating fans who passionately drive only one type of American auto maker’s vehicle offering. As late as the 1990s, a Thunderbird looked like a Thunderbird and a Lumina looked like a Lumina. Now the American LeMans series is more stock than NASCAR. Call it NACoTAR - the National Association for Car of Tomorrow Auto Racing.

7. Find a New Short Track: Shortly after the introduction of the speedways in Las Vegas, Kansas City and Chicago, Rusty Wallace begged for something different. “I wish someone would build another Richmond,” he said, frustrated over the proliferation of 1.5-mile D-shaped ovals. Perhaps one of these new tracks would spend the dough to reconfigure itself for more exciting competition.

8. Get Back to Yer Roots: Not so long ago many of the small and medium-sized cities in the Southeast had some form of NASCAR weekly series. The Asheville Speedway succumbed to pressures from the Biltmore Estate and is now a city park (the track remains and is used as a velodrome for bicyclists). The Camping World and Whelan series are just not cutting it in terms of giving rise to up and coming NASCAR stars. Every new racer on the Nationwide and Sprint Cup Series is a prodigy who has never paid his dues at the local level.

9. Take Advice from Your Legends: NASCAR should gather a special advisory group of its legend to help put the sport back on its feet and tailor its events for a new generation while remembering who put them on a pedestal. Folks like Richard Petty, Rusty Wallace, Darrell Waltrip, Bill Elliott, A.J. Foyt, Harry Gant and David Pearson should help develop a new direction for NASCAR.

10. Don’t Go International Too Fast: IRL and Formula One shouldn’t be relied on as feeder series for NASCAR. Sure NASCAR runs the risk of being portrayed as xenophobic, but several auto racing pundits have hinted over the past 15 years that a large influx of foreign drivers helped alienate the viewing American public from CART and IRL racing at a time when neither could afford to lose any more ground to NASCAR. Now, NASCAR has courted an international list of drivers, but should be careful at how quickly these talents are brought into the Sprint Cup Series. College football and basketball fans identify with the pro athletes they saw grow into adults at their alma mater. The same used to be said for NASCAR drivers the locals witnessed cut their tire at local dirt and short tracks.

11. It’s About Time: Growing up, NASCAR was like clock work every Sunday. It was appointment television and the preacher knew his sermon better be wrapped up by noon to allow time for everyone to get home in time for the race. The race would start at 12:30 unless it happened to be in California. Now you never know when the race is going to occur. Saturday night? Sunday afternoon? Mid-afternoon Sunday? Sunday night? I never know. And neither does the rest of America. Baseball has lost a generation of youth will ill-timed programming for the World Series. The same is happening to NASCAR.

12. “Grand National Series” - Bring it Back: The rotating alphabet soup of key series sponsorship has caused NASCAR’s highest series to lose it identity. Half of the people I know who follow NASCAR still call it “Winston Cup”. Realizing Winston will never again be a major sponsor due to Federal regulations, NASCAR should bring back the Grand National Series moniker. You can still have a key sponsor, such as the Grand National Series, brought to you by <Your Latest Telecommunications Conglomerate Name Here>.