Has ESPN killed sports

In the Dark Ages, when I was a kid, there was NBC's Baseball Game of the Week on Saturdays with Mr. Baseball Joe Garagiola and Tony Kubek, and others like Vin Scully. And there was your local team, in my case the Boston Red Sox, which may televise about a third or more of its schedule.

In the fall and winter, you had Sunday football and later Monday Night Football. On Saturdays, you had This Week in Pro Football, with Tom Brookshier and Pat Summeral, to catch you up on last week and get you stoked for Sunday's action.

You also had your occasional Celtics or Bruins game on TV, and there was a hockey game of the week, and while I don't really remember it, there probably was a basketball version as well. And you of course had Wide World of Sports.

And that was it.

No endless run of men in shorts, pads, sweaters or stirrups. No choice of three or more baseball games a night. No Big Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, Thursday ... on ESPN. No NBA hoops three or more nights a week and on Sundays. ETC.!

And I think we were happier.

Maybe it's just nostalgia, but less was more. There was more of a build up to the next game you would get to see.

The Baseball Game of the Week was exotic. You didn't get to see the San Francisco Giants or the Los Angeles Dodgers play every day. Or a look at the Oakland A's, a team of colorful characters in the early '70s, "The Mustache Gang." Or even the New York Yankees. To catch you up on the action elsewhere, you had This Week In Baseball with Mel Allen, so you really got a good view of the whole league.

This Week in Pro Football was great, showing the highlights of the previous weekend's action. When you were lucky, there was a NFL Films show with the voice of John Facenda, who made every game he touched seem like a Shakespearen play.

Granted you didn't have the endless chalk talk you have today, the breaking down of every play, the so-called insight of the experts. But now, it's too much. Do you really need ESPN's baseball show nightly? Or the NFL channel? I like the chance to pretty much see every Red Sox game, but do I really need to?

Maybe it's just me, maybe sports have passed me by. But it seems like sports on TV has become souless. In this arms race for sports supremacy something was left behind -- the uniqueness of a competiton, the drama of the outcome.

Maybe it's my attention span, but my head spins with all the choices. Maybe it's the players. Were they better when I was a kid? Did I just idiolize them more? And now they just seem totally mortal -- or worse -- besides their extraordinary talents.

ESPN is at the heart of this darkness. They started this revolution, this trip down the slippery slope, the endless sports extravaganza. What was once a hokey little station that put sports announcers against phony backdrops became the Goliath of the sports industry long ago -- the tail wagging the dog. They "perfected" the football pregame and highlight shows. They took televising sporting events to a new level, up or down depending on your view.

When it all started, ESPN was a savior, in a way. It filled a void, giving us more choices, more insight. And, to boot, it provided us with loads of very smart and funny commercials over the years. But the network has become the untidy fatman at the buffet, elbowing everyone out of the way to get at the shrimp cocktail. And it seems void of substance.

Where there was once an interesting newcomer, now there is a brand -- magazine, radio, conveyor belt of celebrity sportscasters. In fact the whole purpose now seems the celebration of celebrity amid an endless parade of competition, one game running into another, into another, into another -- accompanied by endless blather, in loud voices, telling us what we might have missed or should not miss. The circus barker turned broadcaster.

In the middle of all this is the art of the shill. These commentators, former athletes or athletic supporters (imagery intended), are nothing more than pitchmen. They take no stance that will jeopardize their cushy connections with the people they are reporting on. Commentary, if at all, is limited to Xs and Os, game matchups, player puffery. Real issues are swept under the astroturf -- steroids, gambling, the conduct of players off the field. Did anyone do a real look at the power shortage in baseball this year? The power hitters had less power, it seemed. I'm assuming because of the crackdown on steroids. Yet I don't remember seeing anything on this topic.

So what is fueling this 24/7 sports orgy. Love of celebrity? Insomnia? Gambling? How many times have I heard a friend tell me that gambling on the games makes them more interesting? The allure of Buffalo-Miami in December is the point spread.

I still remember a Game of the Week telecast from my youth. I think the game was on the West Coast and I vaguely remember the San Francisco Giants being involved. The game was stopped by a bee investation. Now the games go on, and the investation is ingrained, vaguly noticable, but stinging just the same.

Fear and loathing on Thanksgiving

Well, the big day is almost here -- the day after Thanksgiving, when I get to breathe easier again.

Don't get me wrong, I love the thought of Thanksgiving. I even went to Plimoth Plantations with my nearly 5-year-old son. (It was great, to be honest, in a let's-whitewash-the-history-of-Native-American-oppression way.) And as a kid it was my favorite holiday -- the smell of turkey cooking, the cream-cheese filled celery sticks (what a luxury!), the homemade pies, THE STUFFING!, my large family gathering around the TV for parades and football and then around the table for dinner. I could almost forget how dysfunctional we were, although at the time, in the '60s and '70s, we just said fucked-up.

But my problem now is, I'm a food snub.

Not in that I am a gourmet -- or thin. But I need to have faith that what I'm eating won't kill me. So if I question the sanitary conditions of my host's house or their cooking hygiene, I'm sorry but it kills my appetite. I don't want you to get the idea that I'm more than the usual freak, though. Hey, if I dropped an M&M on the floor, I'd kiss it up to God and eat it. And don't sit there all smug and judging, I know you avoid Aunt Debbie's sausage and bread crumb stuffing because you know she's probably somehow mixed in hair and nail clippings from Sparky, her pet beagle.

I'm really tired of this. Every year, I have to work my way around a cuisine minefield. The possibly undercooked turkey; the cold, not thoroughly mashed mashed potatoes; everyone's different take on salmonella-laced stuffing. I battle my way through dinner, pushing food mounds around my plate as if they were set pieces on a stage (if I put a little mash potatoes here and move the squash here, maybe it will look like I took a bite), taking bites of bread (store-bought, no one bakes anymore!) and waiting for dessert.

And the thing is my childhood home was not next to godliness. We had cats, so I'm certain I ate my share of cat hair. My parents had 13 kids, so the house was never really clean. We were the family where when you came to our house, you always found the butter on the table (and not to make it soft). While I have fond memories of my mom's cooking, well, I won' t go there. The woman was my mother for heaven's sake.

But enough is enough. I really would like to stay home and get take out from a nice, clean restaurant.