All-Star voting privilege should be stripped from fans

ON BASEBALL

Nothing against Alfonso Soriano — he seems like a nice guy — but there's no way he should be in contention for a starting spot in next month's All-Star Game.

No friggin' way.

Yet with fan voting wrapping up this week, that's still a possibility. At last glance, the Cubs outfielder -- who's batting .232 and has a horrid .296 OBP -- was just 27,000 votes behind the Mets' Carlos Beltran for the final starting spot in the National League outfield.

While Beltran has been a bit limited by injury, he's still batting .336 and has an OBP of .425 to go along with 29 extra-base hits -- just two fewer than Soriano's 31. How, I ask, is this a contest?

It's simple, really: The fans are allowed to vote.

And not once, or twice, or seven times ... but 25 times. Don't tell me there aren't thousands of Cubbies fans from Augusta, Maine, to San Diego who have voted 25 times to put their beloved, hopping-and-skipping outfielder in St. Louis' green grass along with the much more deserving Raul Ibanez and Ryan Braun.

Do I blame the fans? Well, yes and no.

Yes for being idiots. No, because they're simply being, well, fans -- supporting their team and players even when it doesn't make sense.

This, really, is why Bud Selig and his friends need to stop this silliness. Strip fans of voting privileges.

Instead, leave it up to the writers and other media folks who follow the game objectively. And continue to let the managers pick the subs. It's not complicated.

Fans will still love the game. Fans will continue to revere the players. Heck, if baseball can survive each time a star player is discovered to have used PEDs, I'm sure it'd be fine after this change.

And the All-Star Game would be better off because of it. The rosters would be about as legitimate as possible, meaning each team would have its best grouping of players to attempt to win the game and grab the league home-field advantage in the World Series.

If Bud and his boys are going to continue to let the fans vote, then the home-field thing needs to go by the wayside. Have the home-run derby, play the game, everyone enjoy themselves.

But don't turn it into something with meaning when guys like Soriano are playing instead of solid, deserving players like the Phillies' Jayson Werth (.271 BA, .364 OBP, 29 extra-base hits).

Hey, baseball's got a problem. What's new?

This one, though, would be easy to fix.

Who's more impressive: Tiger or Roger?

So we've reached the dog days of summer.

The basketball and hockey seasons are over. Football season is still more than two months away. And there are too many baseball games remaining to start talking about pennant races.

This means, of course, that it's a good time to talk about the individual sports that garner the most attention in this country -- tennis and golf. And when mentioning them, you have to start with two names: Tiger Woods and Roger Federer.

The similarities between the stars are striking. While Woods, 33, has six years on the 27-year-old Federer, consider these numbers.

Woods has won 67 golf tournaments during his professional career. Federer has won 59 singles titles and 67 overall titles if you include doubles.

Woods has won 14 major championships, leaving him four shy of Jack Nicklaus' all-time record. Federer also has 14, tying him with Pete Sampras for the record.

Oh, and they pose together in commercials for Gillette.

Both athletes, clearly, have had remarkable careers and will be remembered at least among the top two or three players in their sport if not the best. But whose accomplishments are more impressive?

Federer, to me, is amazing because of how quickly he burst onto the scene. He didn't win a grand slam until Wimbledon in 2003. And then he won three in 2004, two in '05 and three in both '06 and '07. He's added a single title each of the last two years and is vying to add to his '09 total as I write this.

Woods, on the other hand, turned pro in 1996 -- three years before Federer consistently competed at that level -- and has spread out his major titles a little more than his tennis sage counterpart.

He has won a major in nine different years and only won three of them in one year (2000).

Does that make what Woods has accomplished less impressive than Federer's quick rise to the top?

I don't think so. You have to look, rather, at Woods' consistency. He plays a sport in which guys can be competitive until they're 50 -- just consider Kenny Perry's run at the Masters -- and he's always in contention at majors.

No one doubts that Woods, as long as he stays healthy, will eventually break Nicklaus' record. We'll just have to wait awhile -- maybe more than five years.

Federer, on the other hand, is on the verge of breaking Sampras' mark. He could do it in less than two weeks at Wimbledon, where for a second straight grand slam he won't have to face his nemesis, Rafael Nadal.

He probably will.

Just like Woods, Federer's consistency is astounding. In a tennis majors, where seven wins (and 21 sets) are required to take home the championship, one bad match will doom you. As Nadal learned on his dominant surface of clay at the French Open, it can happen against anyone.

Nobody in the modern era has been better than Federer at coming out for every match ready to go.

In a golf major, there's not quite as much pressure. Woods can shoot a 74 in the opening round and still rally to win the tournament. He doesn't have to shoot four 66s.

So in that respect, winning seven tennis matches is a little more difficult than winning a golf major.

But then you must consider the game of golf and the tricks it plays on not only your average hacker, but the No. 1 player in the world. Woods has to deal with bad bounces, with putts that feel perfect and roll wide and, of course, with players who get those lucky rolls to jump into contention.

Federer has more control over each of his shots and where they end up.

To simplify, Woods plays a much tougher sport.

Which brings me back to square one: Who, up to this point in their career, has been more impressive?

My conclusion: Right now it's Federer, because of how quickly he's accumulated his wins.

But let's compare the numbers again in 10 years, when R.F. will likely be in the gallery, retired, watching Woods continue to play as the world's best golfer.

Orlando's big choke job

ON BASKETBALL

It's usually unfair to make bold statements in characterizing a sports event, but not this time.

So here goes.

The Orlando Magic should be ahead of the Los Angeles Lakers 3-1 in the NBA Finals instead of down by the same margin. The Magic should be on its way to securing the city's first championship.

The Magic has outplayed the Lakers in Games 2, 3 and 4 -- and won one of them.

None of this matters, of course, now. The Magic might beat the Lakers in Game 5 to send the series back to L.A., but it's highly, highly unlikely that it will win the series.

Let me amend that: It ain't happenin', and it's kind of sad.

In Game 2, the Magic designed a perfect end-game play that even had Kobe Bryant shaking his head in awe. All Courtney Lee had to do was make a layup, but he bricked the gimme at the buzzer and the Lakers went on to win in overtime.

Orlando didn't let the bad feelings linger, however, going home and winning Game 3 to make the series competitive.

Then the Magic outplayed the Lakers for most of Game 4 and had the game in hand in the final minute. But its star, Dwight Howard, couldn't make one of two free throws in the final seconds. And then the Magic inexplicably let Derek Fisher, the Lakers' second-most clutch player, shoot a long but open 3-pointer to tie the game with 4.6 seconds left.

The more I watch games, the more I'm convinced that there's only one correct strategy when leading by three points with less than 10 second remaining: You absolutely must foul the other team. Send them to the free-throw line, where they have no chance of tying the game without an offensive rebound.

This strategy should be extra safe with a dominant rebounder like Howard. The Magic could have easily fouled Fisher with about 6 seconds left.

Fisher's game-tying 3 falls on two people: coach Stan Van Gundy, who didn't tell his players to foul; and Jameer Nelson, a fairly experienced player who backed off Fisher, giving him the space to take the shot.

Unacceptable. Period.

Before the series, no one outside of Orlando would argue that the Magic was better than the Lakers. Now that can definitely be said. While the series has been hotly contested, Orlando has outplayed L.A.

But that doesn't matter one bit. Come Sunday night or Tuesday night, most likely, the Lakers will be celebrating another championship while the Magic players and coaches wonder how they let this opportunity slip away.

I liken it to the 2006 World Series, when the heavily favored Tigers literally threw away a shot at their first title since 1984 against the St. Louis Cardinals. The Tigers had rolled through the playoffs, sweeping the A's in the ALCS, while the Cardinals needed seven games to dispatch of the Mets in the NLCS.

But the Tigers' pitchers committed an unprecedented five errors, helping the Cardinals steal the series in five games and, in my humble opinion, become one of the worst World Series champions ever (not that the after-party was spoiled at all).

Now the Lakers are on the verge of "stealing" this series in five games, and give them credit. They've stepped up and outplayed the Magic in the two overtimes that shouldn't have been. And unlike the '06 Cardinals, they won't go down as one of the worst NBA championship teams. They're a legitimate championship team -- as has been said of them all season.

Are they the better team in this series, though?

It's often said that the seven-game format is fluke-proof, that the best team always comes out on top. I'm not sure that applies here.

And members of the Magic have only themselves to blame for this.

Knicks should go after Curry, complete a happy marriage

ON BASKETBALL

It is very possible that sweet-shooting Stephen Curry could be drafted before the New York Knicks' first-round pick in the upcoming NBA draft.

Missing out on Curry would be a missed opportunity for the Knicks, who choose eighth, because he would be a perfect fit for Mike D'Antoni's system -- and, it shouldn't be ignored, because of what he is saying.

Curry did something Thursday that you don't normally see from players before the draft, and this might be a reason why he's not your normal kid coming out of college early: He said which team he'd prefer playing for, and it wasn't the team considering him with the highest pick.

The former Davidson star said he has received interest from Oklahoma City, which has the No. 3 pick, Washington (fifth) and Minnesota (No. 6).

But he also said this (New York Times): "If I could be picky, yeah, it would be nice to have that kind of setting: Madison Square Garden."

And he wasn't even in New York when he said this. He was actually in Charlotte, in the area where he's lived his entire life, working out for the Charlotte Bobcats.

Curry said he "wouldn't mind" playing in Charlotte, but he was clear in saying that New York is his No. 1 choice.

He should be credited for coming out and saying his preference, especially a full three weeks before the picks are made June 25. Any team who drafts him knows it'll be getting a high-character player, a team guy and a winner -- we can assume that after watching the way Curry carried himself in the national spotlight for over a year at Davidson.

But the preference factor shouldn't be ignored, either. No, Curry isn't another Steve Francis, who demanded a trade from Vancouver -- a beautiful, fun city, by the way -- after being drafted by the Grizzlies. However, I'd have to think he might just practice a little harder, take a few more jump shots each day at practice, if he were in a Knicks uniform.

He'd be happy and dedicated to the team as long as D'Antoni is coach, and the Knicks would be fools not to give the run-and-gun-system-coaching D'Antoni a few more years to turn around the mess created by Isiah Thomas and others.

Finally, he'd be a good fit on the court -- where it matters most. Obviously, he can get up the court quickly, and his quick-release jumper would work perfectly on fast breaks. He'd have no problems getting his shot off every time down the floor or using it to fake defenders and create off the dribble.

He's not the most polished player, of course. His defense needs a lot of work, and he doesn't exactly have an NBA body.

But when was the last time a D'Antoni team was associated with defense? Let's not forget who his star was in Phoenix -- yep, Steve Nash, who continues to be one of the worst defensive players in the league but won back-to-back MVPs and led a handful of Phoenix teams to highly successful seasons.

Curry will never be a Nash. He's more of a shooter, less of a point guard. He'd do better playing off true point guard Chris Duhon and extending defenses with his jump shot.

And he'll get better -- there's no doubt about this. Guided by his 3-point-shooting expert father, Dell Curry, he'll work extremely hard and improve both physically and mentally during his early years in the NBA.

It'd be a risk for the Knicks to trade up to get him, but in a weak draft he might be worth it.

At least they know what he wants -- to be in a Knicks uniform.

That's more than most teams know about potential draftees and their dream jobs.

Memphis allegations stand out more than most

ON BASKETBALL

Normally, when I hear of a scandal involving the bringing in of a "student-athlete" to a university, I keep living, pay it little attention.

It happens all the time.

The whole system is flawed.

Kids should be able to go straight to the NBA.

Blah, blah, blah.

But when I saw that, allegedly, an unnamed Memphis player who we all know is Derrick Rose had someone take the SAT test for him to get into Memphis, I didn't move on with my life. At least not for 17 minutes.

For a simply reason, really.

Rose's impact.

The kid -- and, yes, he's still a kid; a very, very talented kid -- almost led Memphis to a national championship. The kid almost made the university millions and millions of dollars (in many different forms).

The kid was a huge difference-maker during his one year in Memphis, a huge winner. He helped John Calipari gain more recognition and probably helped him land the coveted Kentucky job this spring.

The list goes on...

And, if the allegations are true, he shouldn't have been at Memphis in the first place.

I'm not saying I would have felt bad for Kansas if the Tigers hadn't blown the end of that epic national-title game; I'm fairly sure the Jayhawks at least bent the rules to recruit a contributor or two from that championship squad.

Rather, I'll look at the season as a whole.

The Tigers played 40 games and won 38 of them. A solid portion of their opponents, I'll assume, were using rosters full of legitimate players. Coaching staffs of those teams spent long hours trying to figure out how to slow down the speedy freshman.

And the kid couldn't take an SAT test.

Did Rose make a bad decision? Of course he did. He should have known how illegal the whole deal was.

So he deserves some blame.

But at the same time, he had no desire to be in college for a year, or take classes. He just wanted to hoop and eat gummy bears.

If it wasn't clear until now, it's crystal clear now that kids like Rose don't belong in college for a year. They should be able to head straight to the NBA, which is where they want to be.

That's obvious and needs no further explaining.

What isn't so clear-cut is what went wrong here. Memphis, obviously, is to blame. Someone at the school, someone within Calipari's group of advisers and boosters, knew what was happening.

So the Tigers should be punished. Hopefully the current players won't feel that burden by missing a postseason. But someone needs to feel the pain of this gross error in judgment.

As for Rose, what can be done? Nothing, of course.

If it's confirmed that he is the culprit, however, I'd have to think that he'll feel something. Sure, Bulls fans and management will continue to love him -- why wouldn't they? -- but he'll be seen, at least for a time, as nothing but a basketball player, a body on the court.

If he wants a good off-court reputation, he'll have to really work at it. We'll see how his endorsements hold up (I'm guessing they'll be fine).

Whatever. He's not the one to feel sorry for.

And no one, really, deserves much sympathy here.

But I do feel a tad for the coaches who make sure to run clean programs and then have to play teams led by illegitimate players such as Rose.

The system is messed up; we all should know that.

It's like baseball and steroids, and it'll only be a matter of time before the next scandal breaks.

That doesn't mean, however, that the effects of such a situation aren't felt.

And I am glad, for the record, that the Tigers failed to win that national-title game.

Even if it's true that all but one of the team's players got into the university the right way.

Billups proves to be one of league's most valuable players

ON BASKETBALL

Give yourself a slap on the back if, way back in November, you saw this one coming:

The Detroit Pistons, with their six consecutive trips to the Eastern Conference finals, swept -- in embarrassing fashion -- in the first round of the NBA playoffs.

And, just as shocking, the Denver Nuggets, with their five straight first-round exits and not a run past that round since 1994, in the Western Conference finals -- even getting there before the West's heavily favored Los Angeles Lakers (who face a do-or-die Game 7 against Houston Sunday).

I, for one, didn't see it happening.

Which means, of course, that I was among the minions who didn't grasp just how valuable of a player Chauncey Billups is.

Because adding Billups, really, is all that changed personnel-wise for the Nuggets. He came over from Detroit along with Antonio McDyess, who ended up back in the Motor City, and Allen Iverson -- and all his talent -- was shipped to Detroit.

On the surface, the Pistons were getting the better player, the more athletic player, the more accomplished player.

Except for one thing -- Billups has an NBA title, not to mention a Finals MVP, while Iverson has none (and, at this point, it looks like he'll retire without a ring).

The reason for this is simple: Billups runs a team better, way better, than Iverson. He gets along better with his teammates, he helps foster a good camaraderie in the locker room.

And he builds a winning environment built on solid self-confidence.

That's the way these Nuggets, who are an impressive 8-2 in the playoffs -- a record only bested by Cleveland's dominant 8-0 mark -- are playing. They've got a swagger about them that says, "Bring it," but at the same time, they're playing with a looseness that you'd associate with an underdog.

And, believe me, they have a 50-50 shot of making the Finals, regardless of whether they take on the mighty Lakers or the Yao- and T-Mac-less, upstart Rockets in the next round.

Meanwhile, the other result of the trade was a mess. It was no secret that Joe Dumars, the Pistons G.M., had no intention of holding on to Iverson after this season. The trade was more of a looking-to-the-future move, aimed at creating valuable cap space to sign a big-time free agent.

But no one thought the Iverson Experiment would go so poorly, with the one-time MVP never fitting in with his Detroit teammates and eventually calling it a season with a purported back injury.

He'll, more than likely, end up in a starting backcourt next season. But don't expect an Iverson-led team to ever smell the Finals again.

We'll have to leave that to Billups, 32, who has looked anything but aged and worn down this season. Along with Carmelo Anthony, Kenyon Martin, J.R. Smith and other valuable role players, it's not unrealistic to expect the Nuggets to make deep runs into the playoffs for a good three or four years.

Who, in November, saw that coming?

It's not too far-reaching of a statement to say the Nuggets are a completely different team since the trade.

And the following is a factual statement: Only one NBA player has made a conference finals series the last seven years.

That man is Chauncey Billups.

Sure, he's been blessed with great talent around him in Detroit and Denver. But neither team was close to being a title contender before he joined it. And while Rasheed Wallace was a big mid-season acquisition for the Pistons during their championship run, there was still no questioning who led them to the upset of the Lakers in the Finals.

Anthony is clearly the Nuggets' most talented player, and even Smith is more explosive than Billups, but the point guard is the team's most indispensable player.

Just look how far -- or, not so far -- Denver got during 'Melo's first five seasons.

Now, the team is just four games away from reaching the Finals with a chance to win its first NBA crown.

And, appropriately, it would be led to that title by a hometown hero who continues to prove his worth to even those outside of his home state.

Just ask the Pistons how valuable he is.

Celtics show, again, the importance of experience

ON BASKETBALL

So the Boston Celtics are down, once again, 1-0 in a best-of-7 series.

So they lost the first game on their home floor.

So what?

The Celtics might be down, but they aren't panicking. And something tells me they'll find a way to fight back and oust the Orlando Magic from the playoffs with or without Kevin Garnett.

That "something" is experience.

Each postseason, every NBA analyst gesticulating on your TV screen mentions it, says how "important experience is this time of year." And most of the time an "intangible" gets so much attention, it's overrated -- just something for all the talking heads to blabber about.

But in the NBA playoffs, as the Celtics have proved in the past two postseasons, experience really can make a difference. It can separate a great team like the Celtics from a young, talented team like the Bulls. Or an untested playoff team such as the Magic.

Just take Game 7 of their epic series against the Bulls, a series that has to go down as one of the greatest of all time even if Boston is quickly dismissed from the postseason.

In that game, the Bulls' most talented player was rookie Derrick Rose. And while he was good at times -- especially in the third quarter -- he committed a trio of key turnovers and didn't control the game the way a veteran point guard would.

Boston's Rajon Rondo wasn't any better, but that wasn't too surprising considering he's the Celtic's youngest main-rotation player.

The guys who knew what they were doing, who knew how to handle a Game 7, were the veterans.

Paul Pierce and Ray Allen found ways to get to the free-throw line in crunch time and then calmly sank the freebies. They made 16 of 17 free throws and the Celtics converted 30 of 39.

And then there was Eddie House, the sharp-shooter off the bench. He'd been a no-show for much of the series, but in the deciding game he continued to do what the team asked of him -- shoot 3-pointers.

And they went in ...all four of them. Take away House's 16 points, and we're talking about a Bulls-Magic series right now. House has been in the league for eight years and has played in his share of playoff series. He knew exactly what his role was.

Ben Gordon tried in vain to be the strong veteran presence for the Bulls, playing poorly on a bad hamstring in the second half after a quick start. Without an A-plus game from him, Chicago was left to rely on a group of very capable but inexperienced players.

Another Bulls veteran, Kirk Hinrich, came off the bench and played brilliantly. It might have seemed a surprise to the casual viewer, but he understood how to play in such a situation.

Still, the Celtics' veterans -- let's not forget the eight points and three rebounds Brian Scalabrine contributed -- were too much to overcome even minus K.G.

Now, after a loss to the Magic, the masses are out saying that Boston desperately needs Garnett to combat the NBA Defensive Player of the Year Dwight Howard. He'd certainly help (obvious statement of the column). But Boston may also win this series without him.

Orlando is on the cusp of greatness. It has a reliable corps in Howard, Rashard Lewis and Hedo Turkoglu plus the injured Jameer Nelson. But they're still inexperienced compared to the Celtics, and I expect that to shine through at some crucial point in the series.

Let's not forget -- Boston had to survive two Game 7s and win a Game 6 in Detroit to get to the Finals a season ago. Nothing ever comes easy for the Celtics, and it certainly won't happen that way in these playoffs.

They may be exposed as thin inside sans Garnett. Their bench may have off games, as was the case, really, until Game 7 of the first round.

But these Celtics won't get beat mentally, won't let a dire situation negatively affect them.

And that can be attributed, in large part, to that word all the former-players-turned-analysts make sure to mention during each 30-second sound bite.

Experience.