Not exactly Hudson County's finest

When one county in New Jersey, like Hudson County, is fortunate enough to have three talented athletes make it all the way to the National Football League, it should be a reason for pride. Stick out your chest a little, give a profound punch to the heart, stroke your own tailfeathers.

It's not everyday that three athletes who played high school football in the same county get a chance to play in the NFL.

So when athletes like Kenny Britt, Evan Rodriguez and Will Hill somehow manage to make NFL rosters, we should all be beaming with pride.

Yeah, right.

Could there be three worse examples of what to do with the possibility of an NFL career than these three? Do we even want to say that there's a sense of pride when it involves these three. Frankly, all three have been more of an embarrassment than anything.

It has nothing to do with their athletic ability. All three have been impeccable athletes.

But it's what they've done off the field that is frankly appalling _ and for some reason, not taken to task.

Britt, the former Bayonne High great who went from Rutgers to the Tennessee Titans, has been arrested a total of seven times during his brief NFL career. That's right, seven _ ranging from driving without a valid driver's license to creating a public nuisance.

In July of 2012, he was arrested and charged with DUI for trying to break through a security gate at the Fort Campbell Army base in Kentucky. In June of 2011, Britt was arrested for making false statements on his driver's license. That same month, he was arrested in Hoboken on two counts of resisting arrest, allegedly trying to conceal a marijuana blunt from Hoboken police. In March of 2011, Britt was arrested in Bayonne for his involvement in a car chase with police. He pleaded guilty to careless driving in the case and was fined.

In February of 2011, Britt was arrested for theft by deception, for failing to live up to a pledge to pay bail on a friend who was arrested for attempted murder. He also had an arrest in Tennessee in 2010 for driving with a revoked driver's license and that same year, he had three outstanding warrants for his arrest for failing to pay three motor vehicle violations in Glen Ridge.

And earlier this year, Britt was believed to be at a Jersey City party where a patron was shot. Britt was asked to appear in front of the Hudson County Prosecutor's office to give a sworn statement as to what transpired at that party, but Britt refused to cooperate.

Rodriguez, the former Chicago Bears tight end, had two incidents this year involving police in Miami and Chicago. In March, Rodriguez, the former North Bergen standout, was charged with public intoxication and resisting an officer, but those charges were dropped. In May, Rodriguez was arrested and charged with driving under the influence and making an improper lane change. That arrest sealed his fate with the Bears and he was released, but has since been signed by the Miami Dolphins.

Rodriguez had a checkered past with North Bergen police while still in high school. He was involved in a brawl in West New York where a teenager was stabbed and believed to be involved with a ring of teenagers that went around town stealing cars. While a student at West Virginia, Rodriguez had an incident with a resident advisor outside of a dormitory, forcing Rodriguez's transfer to Temple.

Hill, who was perhaps the greatest high school football player in Hudson County history, began his controversial career by failing to sign his national letter of intent to Florida at his alma mater St. Peter's Prep, signing it instead at a local sports training facility for a fee. He then had a series of suspensions at Florida and was part of a heralded website, where Hill bragged about smoking marijuana and having sex with a host of different women.

Hill, who has fathered three children with two different women, then went undrafted in the NFL Draft, eventually signing a free agent contract with the New York Giants. He made the Giants roster last year, but was suspended four games for violating the NFL's drug policy. At the time, Hill said that he used the banned substance Adderall, an amphetamine used mostly to control children with epilepsy and attention defecit problems.

Now Hill has been suspended again, set to miss the first four games of the 2013, for using a banned substance once again. It has not been revealed the type of banned drug Hill used this time.

He remains on the Giants' roster, but who knows what will happen once training camp begins.

It makes you wonder. What in the world are these guys thinking, willing to throw away a precious pro football career that so few get a chance to achieve? What are they thinking?

It's one thing to make one mistake. That's considered a mishap, a slip-up. Everyone is bound to make a mistake.

But in these three guys' cases, these are repeated instances. These are not mistakes. This is a habit. It's become a ritual.

What will it take for Britt to stay out of trouble? He's already been suspended by the NFL once last year, yet he ends up at a party with people with guns? If I were Britt, I'd stay so far away from guns and trouble so I can continue to collect my $1.3 million salary.

Rodriguez had a four-year deal with the Chicago Bears. He had a promising future there, but obviously, the Bears had no tolerance, because they set him free. Most NFL teams don't cut fourth-round draft picks unless there's a good reason. It's an embarrasment to the Bears for taking the risk to draft Rodriguez in the fourth round and a year later, having to cut him for his off-the-field behavior.

He's now getting another second chance in a lifetime of second chances with the Dolphins, but I can imagine how tight the ropes must be around Rodriguez in Miami. Because if he makes another mistake, his career is totally history.

What happens to Hill is anyone's guess. Can the Giants, with six safeties in camp as training camp begins this weekend, afford to wait for Hill to play out his second four-game drug suspension in less than a year? It was hard for Hill to make the Giants' roster last year. Chances are there's a hungry rookie safety just waiting to jump into Hill's locker.

Three Hudson County football stars, all given the chance of a lifetime by playing in the NFL. All three of them have now managed to diminish their star value with their infantile behavior off the field. It's mind boggling to think how they've all jeopardized such a good thing.

At the very least, they have had to have embarrassed themselves for their behavior. Or perhaps they don't realize how embarrassing it is _ until the NFL stops sending them paychecks, which could happen sooner than later.
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You can read more of my work at www.hudsonreporter.com, www.theobserver.com, and www.dailyrecord.com.

Nets made out like bandits in deal with Celtics

I received two phone calls from avid NBA fans Friday morning, guys who know that I have spent a portion of my life as a sportswriter covering the Nets, both in New Jersey and now in Brooklyn.

They called because they wanted my take on the blockbuster trade that Nets general manager Billy King pulled off Thursday night, as the NBA Draft was taking place at the Barclays Center.

Somewhere in the bowels of their home arena, King made his biggest trade to date, far bigger than the acquistions of Deron Williams two years ago and Joe Johnson last year.

Although the trade cannot be officially announced until July 10 due to the NBA collective bargaining agreement, it is believed that King secured the services of future Hall of Famers Kevin Garnett and Paul Pierce, along with reliable guard Jason Terry, from the Boston Celtics for a pile of players and draft picks.

The Nets apparently have surrendered Gerald Wallace, Kris Humphries, Toko Shengalia, MarShon Brooks, Keith Bogans and Kris Joseph, along with first round draft picks in 2014, 2016 and 2018, in order to get the package from the Celtics.

My opinion on the deal? It's a steal for the Nets. A downright Brink's job.

My two friends disagree, but my point is this: The draft picks mean absolutely nothing.

In today's day and age, any draft pick that comes in the lower half of the first round is not a player of impact. The Nets will be a very good team for the next five years or so, therefore the draft picks that the Celtics receive will be lower tier picks in the first round.

When you weigh the players the Nets gave up, only Wallace had any real value and his game was in decline last year, as he had career lows in points and rebounds and couldn't make a shot past 10 feet. Humphries' game also suffered last year as well, losing his starting position to the immortal Reggie Evans, a rebound machine who couldn't throw a beach ball into the East River.

Brooks had a decent rookie year, but he took a step back last year, trying to do too much when he got on the floor. The rest have contracts and not much else.

In return, the Nets have now given themselves a legitimate shot of winning the whole shabang. They're not as good as the Heat, but with Garnett at power forward and Pierce at small forward, they're close.

And I don't care what anyone says, but as they are constructed right now, the Nets are a better team than the Knicks. In fact, it's no comparison. Brook Lopez at center, Garnett and Pierce at the forwards, with Williams and Johnson at the guards. All five have been NBA All-Stars. All five are proven scorers.

The Nets are not going to run up and down the floor like they did when new coach Jason Kidd was playing for the franchise. In fact, they're going to have to be a methodical team, concentrating on the half court approach, with the new acquisitions.

But they're going to be much better than the team that won 49 games last year. They're going to push the 55-win mark and perhaps 60 if both Garnett and Pierce, both 37 years old and on the down side, can play 70 or more games.

When Russian billionaire Mikhail Prohkorov bought the Nets three years ago, he boldly proclaimed that the Nets would contend for a championship in five years. I sat at the press conference when he said those words and chuckled under my breath. I thought mighty Mikhail must have been nipping at the vodka a little too much. The Nets won 12 games the year before he bought the team. They were a complete laughingstock.

But with this trade _ and taking the hit on what will be an incredible $80 million luxury tax _ Prohkorov has proven one thing. He's willing to win at all costs.

Is the trade a gamble? Sure it is. Garnett and Pierce are not getting any younger. They've both seen better days. There's no guarantee that they will stay healthy, although both have been pretty injury-free throughout their storied careers.

With this new lineup, the Nets have one, maybe two years to go after the NBA title that Prohkorov promised.

The way their roster was before Thursday, they could count on winning 50 games tops, go to the playoffs and perhaps win a series or two. Now, with healthy playoffs from Garnett and Pierce, the Nets are legitimate contenders.

Sure, there will be obstacles. Garnett likes to shoot from the perimeter. Pierce and Johnson are very similar players, who like to get the ball in isolation and play with their backs to the basket. There's only one ball to go around for five offensive-minded players to share.

But in one day, the Nets instantly became the best team in New York and put themselves in solid contention for an NBA title.

And if anyone thinks that it was a bad move for the Nets and a good move for Boston, you need your head examined. The Nets got two future Hall of Famers for basically a pile of nothing.
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Last week, while everyone in the metropolitan New York area was mourning the passing of brilliant actor James Gandolfini of "Sopranos" fame, the sports world suffered a loss whose death was overshadowed by the sudden passing of Gandolfini at a young age.

Dave Jennings died after a long battle with Parkinson's disease. He also died young at 61.

Jennings gained fame in local sports as an All-Pro punter, both for the Giants and the Jets, in the 1970s and 1980s. Jennings was a standout for the Giants at a time when the Giants were not good, back in the days of planes flying over Giants Stadium with a message "Fifteen Years of Lousy Football: We've Had Enough," and fans burning tickets.

Jennings did his job and obviously had to punt a lot for the Giants, because the team wasn't very good.

In 1978, I was just beginning my senior year in high school. I had no idea what I wanted to do for a living, where I wanted to go to college. I had no course to follow.

But I received encouragement about possibly becoming a writer from my journalism teacher at St. Peter's Prep, Jim Horan.

I had an assignment for my journalism class to interview someone and do an in-depth feature. I had a suggestion to interview a professional athlete and decided I wanted to interview Dave Jennings.

I went to an autograph session where Jennings appeared and asked if I could somehow interview him. He gave me the phone number of the Giants' PR person, a wonderful man named Tom Power, and told me to call Power to set up a day that I could do the interview.

Well, Power went out of his way to call me and told me that I should come to Giants Stadium on a Wednesday afternoon after practice. There was only one problem. I didn't have my own car and I knew my mother wasn't going to be home in time to drive me to Giants Stadium.

So I called my friend Alex Chiarella, who was a huge football fan, but he liked the Cowboys. I told him that if he drove me, I could get him into the Giants locker room, but he just had to wait until I did the interview with Jennings. He was happy to do so.

I went to Giants Stadium, nervous and excited, fearful and happy all in one. I had a list of questions I wanted to ask Jennings and went through each question with the poise of a scared high school senior.

Jennings was wonderful. He never once treated me like a kid. He answered every single question. I learned that his favorite football player growing up was a Giants receiver named Del Shofner. I then did my research about Shofner, a player I never heard of before, but now know a lot about because of Jennings.

I learned that he always thought he would be a basketball player first, because he never punted once before he was a student at St. Lawrence College in upstate New York. I learned about his family life, his student life, his getting noticed at a free agent camp by the Giants. In a span of perhaps 15 minutes, I got to know Dave Jennings.

When the interview ended, Jennings praised me for doing a good job.

"Maybe I'll read you one day in the Daily News," Jennings said as he shook my hand and bid farewell.

The article about Jennings was submitted to the Prep school newspaper, the Petroc. It was the first published article I ever wrote that received a byline. The article then received an award at the state high school newspaper competition at Princeton University later that year. I won two awards at that competition, the first awards of my career.

Through Jim Horan's guidance, I went to Marquette to study journalism like he did. It gave me a sense of what I wanted to do, becoming a sportswriter. Dave Jennings was the first athlete I ever interviewed.

As I got older and started to cover the Giants and Jets regularly, I would see Jennings from time to time. He always remembered that interview. He would kid me about it, saying that I asked better questions then than I do now.

The last time I saw Jennings was at the Ring of Honor ceremonies at MetLife Stadium, in December of 2011. I went down to the field to interview Alex Webster to do a story for the Kearny Observer, one of the papers I work for.

Jennings was bothered by the cold that day. I only said Hello briefly. I was there to talk to Webster, the Kearny native, who knew of me from being an avid reader of his hometown paper, doing so online every week.

I didn't realize it was the last time I would see both Alex Webster and Dave Jennings, as both are gone now.

I owe a lot to Dave Jennings for giving me that bit of encouragement when I was a teenager. I still think I was predestined to be a sportswriter, like that was my calling even as a kid. I just didn't realize it. But Jennings helped to push me along and I'll be forever grateful.

That's why I was so saddened by his passing last week. I'm glad his suffering is over, but I'll forever remember the many times we shared space in the Giants' press box _ and that fateful fall afternoon in 1978.
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You can read more of my work at www.hudsonreporter.com, www.theobserver.com and www.dailyrecord.com.

My Dad created my own personal 'Field of Dreams'

This column was first printed in the pages of the now-defunct Hudson Dispatch on June 29, 1989. It ended up winning several different awards from the New Jersey Press Association, the North Jersey Press Club and the Garden State Society of Journalists. It was also reprinted in Reader’s Digest later that year (although I never got credit, the paper did).

For several years, the clipping sat in an old Avon box in my basement. We had a major flood two years ago that ruined a lot of my old clippings, including several of the old Dispatch articles. But somehow, this one survived. It’s very weather beaten and faded, but it survived.

So here it is again today, because after all, it’s Fathers’ Day.

I ventured to the movie theater the other day. No, not to see “Batman” or even “Ghostbusters II.” I’m not a trendy type of guy. In fact, I’m a little behind the times. I saw “Field of Dreams.”

OK, so the rest of the western world has already plunked down the cash to see “Field of Dreams.” We’re in the midst of a blockbuster movie season. “Field of Dreams” is old news to movie freaks. After all, it was only released nine weeks ago.

But “Field of Dreams” is about baseball _ sort of. And besides, “Batman” is not about Don Mattingly. I am a sportswriter _ at last check. And I’m a movie fan. Just a tardy movie fan, that’s all. I had to go see it. Who cares if I’m late?

I heard so many things about the movie. It was supposed to be the best thing ever to happen to baseball movies _ which wouldn’t be a hard feat, considering that most baseball flicks flounder.

I went with an open mind, waiting to be disappointed. I left feeling wonderful, feeling alive, feeling good. “Field of Dreams” touched me more than any other movie. It was clearly the best picture I’ve ever witnessed.

And my strong feelings about “Field of Dreams” had nothing to do with baseball. It had to do with life. Or, for that matter, afterlife.

For those who have not had the chance to see “Field of Dreams” _ like all seven of you _ you can stop reading here. Take my word for it, the movie is excellent. It’s the best thing you’ll see all year.

Now, for you other fortunate folk.

Let’s face it. “Field of Dreams” has its flaws. I mean, Shoeless Joe Jackson batted left-handed in real life and threw right. In this movie, the exact opposite. He batted right and threw left.

Brings up a good question. Do your extremities become mirror images after death? Only Elvis can answer that one. Remind me to ask him the next time the King is spotted at a 7-11 in Michigan. Elvis probably shoots at TVs with his left these days.

Gil Hodges is mentioned to be on the “Field of Dreams.” But there were no Brooklyn Dodgers uniforms to be found.

Still, this movie was absolute perfection to me, because it was able to touch me in a way that some people can relate to _ but hopefully not many.

Because of one movie, I got in touch with the huge vacancy that has been dominating my life for the last 18 years _ namely the absence of my father.

I was 10 when cancer snuffed Jack Hague away from me. He was sick, dead and gone within one month’s time in 1971. He was my everything. He was my inspiration, my motivation, my life. He was my Little League manager, my friend. He taught me so much about life in 10 short years _ and then he was gone.

It left me with a brother who was 60 miles away with his own family, a sister who was maturing rapidly _ and a loving mother, who had to be both parents from that point on. It was not easy.

Especially because of my obsession with sports _ something I shared with my Dad. We would watch ball games together, talk baseball constantly, play catch in my backyard.

With no father, those times came to an abrupt halt. I longed for the days of playing catch in the yard. They were long gone.

“Stop throwing like a girl, James,” I could hear him saying. “Step and throw.”

There were so many times in 1972, the first year after my father’s death, that I would stand in the yard, hoping he would come back. I just kept standing there, smacking the ball into my empty glove.

Little League was no longer fun without my Dad. It was a struggle to play for some other manager.

That summer, my mother bought me a “Pitch-Back,” the net that snapped the ball back to you after you tossed it. However, the damn thing never offered advice. It never told me what I was doing wrong. It just stood there.

And the “Pitch-Back” could never tell me what I was doing wrong in life. Of course, my mother did _ and worked hard at it. But living with two women and no man’s view of life certainly was no breeze for a moody kid who found his only release through sports.

As time went on, I tended to forget about my Dad. Not entirely, but enough that he wasn’t a major part of my life anymore. I lost his set of values, his standards. I forgot what Jack Hague stood for. I wanted to be independent, my own person. I couldn’t fill the shoes of a memory.

Sure, sports remained my one constant _ and still is today. Without it, I would be lost. But mst of all the other values I thought I had disappeared.

People think I’ve lived a good life, an exciting life. But it’s been fairly shallow. I never realized that until recently _ and never more so until I saw “Field of Dreams.”

It was a total awakening for me. I knew how important my father was _ and still is. Sure, my father was gone, but I should never let him stop being my parent. I should have left his values live on in my life instead of being pigheaded and stubborn and wanting to be something and someone else.

“Field of Dreams” touched me so much that I wanted to build a field in my backyard, albeit a small patch of brown grass nestled in Jersey City. And all the greats of yesteryear who are now departed could come back. They wouldn’t even need an invitation.

Gil Hodges would wear a Met uniform and run the show. Thurman Munson would be behind the plate. Satchel Paige on the mound, Lou Gehrig at first _ and Jackie Robinson stealing bases all night.

And the players would leave a little spot where right field would be, just enough for a grey-haired man with a three-finger glove could throw some high hard ones to his son.

“Field of Dreams” did what it was supposed to do _ make us all dream. It made me dream _ of the days when my father taught me about baseball and life.

I almost took those days for granted. I look back now and cherish. I never realized how much I truly missed my father.

So this is somewhat of an open call to all our readers. Stop, take time out and realize how important your father is.

Sure, there may be some differences and there may be some strife, but the day may come when your father is suddenly not there _ and that vacant feeling of his loss almost gets a stranglehold of you.

I know what that feeling is like. I knew it 18 years ago _ and I rediscovered that huge gap 11 days ago. Yes, Fathers’ Day, the day I saw “Field of Dreams.” I had totally forgotten it was Fathers’ Day. It was so totally ironic I saw the movie on that day.

I’ll never forget Fathers’ Day again. That’s why I love the movies so much _ and why “Field of Dreams” is the best movie I’ve ever seen. I found my Dad. I’m grateful for Hollywood for that.

That’s why I’m asking all of you to find your fathers, too. While he’s still around.

NOTE: Forrest Gump now ranks up there with my favorites. It's now 42 years that Dad is gone. And he's still a major part of my life. I'm not even close to be the man he was, but he's still the motivation in my life as I approach the age he was when he left us. And now, since Dad's favorite Ted Williams is also gone, he would have definitely made sure that "Teddy Ballgame" was part of his "Field of Dreams." Happy Fathers' Day to all.

Are the Nets Kidd-ing us with J-Kidd as head coach?

Let me get this straight, because my brain hurts from thinking about it.

The Brooklyn Nets won 49 games last season -- 35 of which came under the leadership of P.J. Carlesimo -- and made the NBA Playoffs for the first time in seven years.

But then the Nets management canned Carlesimo, saying that they wanted to go in a different direction.

And that direction is the recently retired Jason Kidd.

Nothing against Kidd, who was a great player for the Nets, a guy who singlehandedly saved their franchise and without his accomplishments, the Barclays Center would have never been built. I think Kidd is one of the best point guards to ever play the game, a player with great vision, a player who made everyone around him better.

But as a head coach right away? As a head coach instead of Carlesimo?

Are you Kidd-ing me?

Kidd hasn't an ounce of coaching experience. He sure was a genius with the ball on the floor and had great insight in terms of basketball knowledge with the ball in his hand.

But as I remember, coaches don't exactly play the game. Kidd can't make Deron Williams play better because he's standing on the sideline in a suit.

How in the world is a coaching nebish like Kidd better than Carlesimo? He can't be. There's a lot to handle in being an NBA head coach. There are film breakdowns and scouting reports daily. There are the countless demands of facing the media -- something Kidd wasn't overly comfortable with as a player. There is the psychoanalysis of every single player -- and Kidd was just a player a few weeks ago.

The Nets also thought of Pacers assistant Brian Shaw and former Memphis Grizzlies coach Lionel Hollins. They even apparently brought Shaw in for an interview Wednesday after allegedly offering the job to Kidd with a three-year contract.

None of these selections are better than the man who held the position, albeit on an interim basis, for the last five months of the season and into the playoffs. It wasn't a fluke that Carlesimo coached the Nets to a 35-19 regular season record and three wins in the playoffs. He was the perfect elixir for a team in disarray after Avery Johnson's reign.

But now, Nets general manager Billy King is turning the team over to a guy with no coaching experience whatsoever?

Don't forget Kidd's past. He was arrested of domestic violence during his days as a player in Phoenix, an incident that greased the skids out of Arizona and to New Jersey for Stephon Marbury. It did turn out to be the best trade in the Nets' history, but there's no denying that Kidd once beat his wife.

And a year ago, Kidd was arrested for DUI after an accident in the Hamptons. That case has yet to go in front of a judge.

This is the guy you want to be your head coach? Will Deron Williams listen to Kidd? At least the two have something in common. They're both coach killers. Williams got Jerry Sloan out the door in Utah and Kidd stood on his head to get Byron Scott fired in New Jersey.

Make no mistake about it. As a player, Jason Kidd was the best thing to ever happen to the Nets. He led them to two NBA Finals appearances and put life into the Continental Airlines Arena (now IZOD Center) that it never had before. Those were exciting times in the Meadowlands with Kidd leading the fast break. I witnessed hundreds of those games and never once was disappointed about Kidd's play, until he faked a headache in his final days, pushing Rod Thorn to trade Kidd to the Mavericks.

But can this same guy lead the Nets to another level? Who knows? It's a huge gamble for a team that already has a core in place for the next five years at least. There is no wiggle room with the Nets' roster right now. They're pretty much stuck with the top players they have.

Is a rookie head coach the answer for a veteran team? I guess we're going to soon find out.

But the bottom line is this: There is no way on this green earth that Jason Kidd is a better coach than P.J. Carlesimo. It's not even close. I don't care that Kidd hasn't coached a game. I've seen Carlesimo handle every single aspect of the coaching game and done it with a flair, a grace and a dignity.

So Billy King is going to roll the dice and hire Jason Kidd as a head coach. King shouldn't care, because he just got a three-year extension of his own.

The whole thing is beyond ridiculous. If it's a ploy to gain attention away from the Knicks, well, that works for one whole day _ the day that Kidd is announced as head coach. The day after, the proof, as they say, is in the pudding.
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Mets GM Sandy Alderson went on WFAN the other day to talk to Mike Francesa and said that the Mets are in a rebuilding mode.

Well, haven't they been in this same mode since Alderson arrived three years ago?

By now, there should have been some progress made.  But in honesty, the team has gone way backward, thanks to the recent implosions of starting players Ike "Let's capitalize the K in his first name, because all he does is strikeout" Davis and Ruben "Never to Be Seen Again" Tejada.

The Mets are headed on a dead impact pace of losing 100 games. You can see it now in their pitching staff, in their anemic starting lineup (batting a team .225), in their inability to make decent plays, in their hideous and disgraceful bullpen.

It's a lousy team, the worst I can remember in more than 25 years. But don't come out and say you're in a rebuilding mode now. You had three years to rebuild. There should have been some progress by now.

No, Alderson has been made a complete stooge by the hideous owners, Freddy Coupon and Coupon Jr., the tight-wads that only care about holding on to imminent domain of the chop shops and car repair facilities directly to the north of CitiField.

The Coupons only want to hold on to the franchise long enough to see a real estate rebirth in Queens, snare the opportunity to re-develop the area round the stadium and turn it into a commercial and residential paradise.

They care nothing of the shamefully disgraceful franchise they put on the field every night and expect the hard working public to spend $75 a ticket to watch such tomfoolery.

If the Mets were honest three years ago and came out and said they were rebuilding, maybe this season wouldn't be as painful. But they tried to sell us that Lucas Duda was potentially a star. Guess what? He's not even close. The rest of the roster is a laughingstock. Anthony Recker would have a tough time cracking a Class AAA roster. There are better catchers on the free agent market than Recker. That's only one position.

They sent down Mike Baxter and brought up Colin Cowgill. For what? They both are awful.

I thought I liked Kirk Niewenhuis when he first came up, but he strikes out all the time and can't make a play in the outfield. Ugh. It's painful to watch. It's like going to the neighborhood bodega to get a root canal. It's like taking the car to the pharmacy for a transmission rebuild.

The Mets are a complete shambles and that really upsets me.
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You can read more of my work at www.hudsonreporter.com, www.theobserver.com and www.dailyrecord.com. The high school scholastic season is just about over. I can take up reading in the coming weeks. On my reading list are New York Post columnist George Willis' book about the Mike Tyson-Evander Holyfield fight and the biography of Earl "The Pearl" Monroe. I received both in the mail in the last few weeks and can't wait to get to both.

The gift that keeps on giving: Performance enhancement drugs

So Anthony Bosch, this bastion of wonderment who has been selling his illegal performance-enhancement drugs to big-time athletes, is about to come clean with Major League Baseball officials and will sing like a caged songbird as to who he gave his illegal crap to.

And sure, this will more than likely seal the end of Alex Rodriguez's tenure with the Yankees and probably end his career, because no other team will want to take a gamble on a two-time PED abuser. This time, A-Rod can't blame his cousin or his ignorance that he didn't know the cream he was using was illegal and that he thought all along that he was taking vitamins.

A-Rod's involvement and his identification of being involved with the Bosch group Biogenetics isn't that shocking and isn't that newsworthy, except that it pushes him to the head of the steroid-using class, ahead of Roger Clemens and Barry Bonds, simply because Clemens and Bonds were only implicated once and this is strike two for A-Rod.

Nope, the name that jumps out above the rest this time is another thought-to-be one-time steroid loser Ryan Braun.

If you remember, Braun, the 2011 National League Most Valuable Player, was believed to have tested positive for PEDs before the start of the 2012 season, but had his 50-game suspension rescinded when Braun claimed that the testing procedure was tainted and that it could have been anyone's urine that ended up in a Wisconsin lab, not his.

A federal judge ruled that Braun could not be suspended for the drug charge, simply because the urine taken from Braun sat in a Wisconsin lab for three days and was not properly marked, even though the chemist involved with the testing never had a problem with the thousands of drug tests he did before.

When Braun was thought to be vindicated, he held a press conference in Arizona, ripping the process, throwing the chemist (a diehard Brewer fan, by the way) under the bus, saying that the system was wrong and he was proof that the system didn't work. Instead of being apologetic and contrite, Braun was on the warpath, claiming that he was done wrong and his reputation was forever harmed.

Well, what in the world is Braun's reputation worth this morning?

He's now a two-time loser, like A-Rod. But when A-Rod was first approached about using PEDs, A-Rod admitted his mistake and vowed to never do it again _ a promise he obviously couldn't keep.

In the case of Braun, he lied about using, then got off on a technicality, then ranted and raved that he was unjustly attacked as being a user _ and now has to face the charges again.

What does Braun use as an excuse this time? It was not him who went to the clinic in Miami, that it was some other guy named Ryan Braun who looks like him? That it was his evil clone twin? That excuse might have worked on "The Young and the Restless," but not here.

One of Braun's advisors had the audacity Tuesday night to say that Braun was being targeted by MLB Commissioner Bud Selig to "set an example."

Dummy. Braun plays for the Brewers, a team once owned by Selig himself. A team that Selig still holds with great reverance and love. Selig doesn't want to hurt the Brewers. In fact, I would venture to say that Selig is sick over the fact that a beloved Brewer is involved.

If Braun was just a tad contrite last year when he held that ridiculous press conference, I might be able to feel a little sorry for him today. But right now, after he blasted everyone under the sun for what he thought was injustice and gets caught doing the same crap again, he can go far away. No sorrow here. If he's suspended for 100 games and loses millions in salary, then Braun deserves every single ounce of that penalty.

If this songbird Bosch brings down other ballplayers with his tell-all secrets, then so be it. Maybe this might lift the cloud of uncertainty that has hovered over the game of baseball since 1998. Does he do steroids, doesn't he do steroids? Who's on the Mitchell Report list and who's not? Who's with BALCO and who's with Biogenetics? You have to keep a scorecard, steroid or no steroid.

It's that way with the Hall of Fame. This year alone, Mike Piazza didn't get in because it's believed he used steroids and Bonds and Clemens didn't get in because they did. It's going to get to a point where Cooperstown will need its own wing for steroid users, because you can't tell who did and who didn't.

We know now that A-Rod is a two-time steroid user and that should end his career and all hope of the Hall of Fame. We also know now _ even though he won't admit it _ that Ryan Braun is also a two-time steroid user.

In the case of A-Rod, it was expected and it's not shocking. In the case of Braun, it's downright sickening, because of all the people outside of baseball who he sang botched his urine test and ruined their lives and reputations strictly because he wanted to save face. In this corner, his case is more disgusting than A-Rod's, because you had to figure Braun was innocent the way he was so adamant he did nothing wrong in March of 2012.

Well, guess again. Denial is not just a really long river in Egypt. It's the rally cry, the mojo, the motto of professional athletes who were caught red-handed using PEDs and they still deny they did anything. Lance Armstrong. Marion Jones. Rafael Palmiero. They all denied they ever did it. They're not denying it now.

So, Ryan Braun, don't let the door hit you on the ass as you begin to serve the lengthy suspension you should have received last year. Because if the door hits your rear, it might sting a little from where all the steroid needle marks were.

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You can read more of my work at www.theobserver.com, www.hudsonreporter.com, and www.dailyrecord.com.

Rutgers fiasco: "You can't make this up."

If you take a closer look at the Scarlet Knight in the Rutgers University logo these days, he's wearing a blindfold. Not because Mr. Knight is facing a firing squad or being forced to walk the plank, but out of pure embarrassment. He's shielding his eyes because he can't believe what's going on down by the banks of the Old Raritan.

Former New Jersey Gov. Dick Codey said it best yesterday, when he was quoted as saying, "You can't make it up."

Codey is right. You cannot make up the entire scenario involving the beloved State University of New Jersey. Your top comedy writers, like Mel Brooks or the Farrelly Brothers, couldn't dare dream up a more asinine plot. "Me, Myself and Irene" was far more plausible than this hideous charade.

Here's the whole thing in a nutshell. Rutgers fired its men's basketball coach and its athletic director over a string of videotapes portraying the basketball coach as some modern day escapee from Guantanamo Bay, filled with abusive insults at players _ and then the school goes out and hires a new athletic director who is guilty of the same kind of verbal torture?

Are you kidding me? Can that be true?

Well, after reading Craig Wolff's pretty extensive piece in the Newark Star-Ledger on Sunday, it appears to be very true, that newly-hired athletic director Julie Hermann made the same kind of hideous mistakes in terms of abusing her players when she was the volleyball coach at the University of Tennessee 16 years ago.

In the report, Hermann allegedly called her players "drunken whores" and "retarted" on several occasions. She was so abusive that there was a Captain Queeg-like mutiny on the team, that if Hermann stayed on as volleyball coach, the entire team was set to quit and relinquish their scholarships in the process. They all signed a letter validating such abusive behavior. So Hermann was reassigned and later moved on to the adminstrative side at Louisville.

And Hermann allegedly told her assistant coach that if she got married and subsequently got pregnant, she would be fired as an assistant coach. Sure enough, the coach got married (AND HERMANN WAS IN THE WEDDING PARTY) and sure enough, the coach got pregnant and sure enough, she was fired. The coach sued the University of Tennessee over illegal work code violations and the two parties settled for $150,000.

Get this? There's a portion of the assistant coach's wedding video that shows Hermann making such a threat _ and Hermann denied to Wolff that she was even at the wedding. Yet, there's the video on line. You can see it on www.nj.com.

Hermann also denied knowledge of the mutiny letter. But there it was, in print, for all to see.

Now, how in the world could Rutgers go through an "extensive search" to find a replacement for deposed athletic director Tim Pernetti and not know about Hermann's background, about the lawsuit, about the way her volleyball team hated her, about the wedding video and the letter? How could that possibly be?

It's almost too comical that this woman stood just a few weeks ago and vowed that nothing like what former men's basketball coach Mike Rice did would ever happen under her watch, yet she was guilty of doing the same exact thing.

The search committee apparently went through 45 different candidates and came up with Hermann's name after a member of the committee threw her name up at the last minute, that Hermann was not under consideration with the other 45 names during the first go-round. Say what? Someone gets thrown into the mix out of the blue and she gets the job, without the school doing its homework and due diligence? It was bad enough that Hermann had no experience whatsoever working with football _ and Rutgers' main source of revenue in athletics is indeed football.

But considering what happened with Rice and how he and Pernetti lost their jobs over the videos, don't you think Rutgers would have crossed every T and dotted every single last I before giving the job to this woman? How in the world could they overlook what happened in Tennessee?

One member of the search committee said that she didn't know about the letter or the claims of the players or even the blasted lawsuit before the article appeared in the Ledger. Are you kidding me?

And the way Hermann tried to dance around it, like it simply didn't happen? She said she didn't recall ever saying such a thing and didn't remember attending the wedding or in fact, saying those things on tape, even if the tape is now online for all to see. She must have been doing some really horrific hallucination-causing drugs back then.

When the Rice scandal broke in April, I thought that Rutgers President Robert Barchi deserved to lose his job, the way he ignored the videos and threw Pernetti under the bus, after Barchi told Pernetti to handle the whole situation _ and Pernetti did what he thought was the right thing, by suspending Rice at the time.

Pernetti was wrong for simply suspending Rice, because after he saw the tapes, he should have fired Rice immediately and not wait until the story became viral to do so. By then, Pernetti was painted as a bad guy as well _ by Barchi, who had a press conference trying to explain Pernetti's expulsion and came off trying to be Rodney Dangerfield, cracking jokes, instead of a college leader.

A lot of people are up in arms about Eddie Jordan, Rice's replacement, not having a college degree, yet the school's website said that he did. I don't see that as being as horrific as the other things happening in Piscataway. But it is another black eye.

However, this latest debacle just makes Rutgers an absolute laughingstock if it wasn't already. And who's to blame? Barchi, for first not taking the time to watch the Rice videos when they were brought to his attention last November and now for hiring a woman with beyond shady credentials and a tainted resume.

Barchi has to take the hit for turning Rutgers into a complete joke. And lucky for Rutgers, Hermann wasn't supposed to take over until June 17. The school can now cut bait on her before she takes over.

However, there was some statement, albeit a lame and absurd one, that came from Rutgers this afternoon, stating that they still support Hermann. How in the world can they? How can they keep a straight face and ignore all of this further negative publicity? Just shake it off as if it's either not true or it didn't happen? I may not always agree with what Wolff writes _ like calling Eric Murdock a victim in the Rice case, instead of being a felon _ but the evidence is overbearing. It leaps off the page and slaps you in the face. How can it not do that to Barchi and other already disgraced Rutgers officials?

Rutgers has no choice but to rid itself of Barchi and Hermann right now. Somewhere, Pernetti is having a big laugh out of all of this. Some critics even went as far as to saying that the school should bring back Pernetti. Do you think he wants this now? He has a life again and is getting paid nicely for the next 18 months to stay away.

But if Rutgers doesn't give a swift kick in the rear to both Barchi and Hermann and out the door at the same time in the days to come, then the place will have absolutely no credibility whatsoever.

Like it has any credibility left right now. It's like the people in Piscataway have used up all their credibility points already.
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In 1979, I used to love to go to Mets games. Sure the team stunk. They went 63-99 that year, under manager Joe Torre, a world before he would become a World Series championship manager.

The Mets finished dead last in the NL East that year and drew 788,905 fans for the season, 11th out of 12 National League teams. They were an awful baseball team, dreadful in every imagination, but I would love to go the games, because I would buy a general admission ticket for $3 and by the end of the game, I'd sneak down, level by level, until I got behind the Mets dugout.

I even once heard Torre, enraged by a call, go out to big John McSherry and say, "John, are you going to stop making horseshit calls or am I going to have to say something bad about your mother?" McSherry replied, "Joe, I'm only calling them as I see them." To which Torre said, "That's what I thought you'd say. Your mother is a ........" Just add your own expletives for effect. Torre got thrown out and the crowd of a few hundred went nuts.

But as bad as the Mets were that year of 1979, they were far better than the 2013 Mets, who are as bad as the words Torre used to describe McSherry's mommy.

The current Mets could not shine the 1979 Mets' shoes. Not even close.

Need proof? OK, here we go, position by position, 1979 team member listed first.

Catcher: John Stearns vs. John Buck. Stearns played in 155 games that year and had nine homers and 66 RBI, hitting .243. Buck got off to a great start and has now faded fast. Advantage: 1979.
First Base: Willie Montanez vs. Ike Davis. Montanez was in decline in 1979, hitting just .234 with five homers and 47 RBI. But .234 is still 90 points better than the bewildered Davis.
Second Base: Doug Flynn vs. Daniel Murphy. Flynn hit .243 with four homers and 67 RBI, but was the best fielding second baseman in the game then. Murphy is a better hitter, but can't catch a cold.
Shortstop: Frank Taveras vs. Ruben Tejada. Taveras hit .263 with one homer and 33 RBI, horrible numbers for someone who played in 157 games. But Taveras stole 42 bases. Tejada is lucky to steal one or two this year.
Third Base: Richie Hebner vs. David Wright. OK, here's one for the current team. Hebner was a malcontent who dogged it the entire season, batting .268 with 10 homers and 79 RBI. Wright is a legitimate All-Star and plays like one every day. He could have those power numbers by the All-Star break.
Left Field: Steve Henderson vs. Lucas Duda. "Stevie Wonder," the best player the Mets got in the Tom Seaver trade in 1977, batted .306 in 1979. Duda will never hit .300 for as long as he lives.
Centerfield: Lee Mazzilli vs. Rick Ankiel?  Mazzilli (.303, 15 HR, 79 RBI) was the Mets' All-Star that year and almost won the All-Star Game MVP if not for Dave Parker's great throws. Rick Ankiel is Rick Ankiel.
Right Field: Joel Youngblood vs. Marlon Byrd. Youngblood hit .275 with 16 HR and 60 RBI. Byrd will not come close to those numbers.
Starting Pitchers: Craig Swan, Dock Ellis, Pete Falcone, Pat Zachry, Andy Hassler vs. Matt Harvey, Jonathan Niese, Shawn Marcum, Jeremy Hefner and Dillon Gee. OK, Swan was the only legitimate starter on that team (14-13, 3.29 ERA), while this year's team has a potential all-time great in Harvey. But Niese and Gee have been god awful, Marcum has been a waste of money and Hefner would be a decent starter in Las Vegas (and lately, he's been better than Niese and Gee). I'd still give the nod to the 2013 Mets.
Bullpen: Although the 1979 Mets had some firestarters in Dale Murray and Wayne Twitchell (ooh, bad memories), it did have Skip Lockwood, a 21-year-old Neil Allen and a 22-year-old Jesse Orosco. The current Met bullpen has Bobby Parnell, an overused Scott Rice and a bunch of shiite after that. Open up the bullpen door and outflows shiite.
Manager: Joe Torre vs. Terry Collins. While Torre was just learning his craft back then, he did go on to win four World Series titles. Terry Collins is a nice man with an inferior team who is about to lose his job soon, because Freddy Coupon, the cheapskate lying owner, is going to give in to fan pressure, believing that Wally Backman could turn things around. I have news for you. Miller Huggins or Joe McCarthy couldn't win with this team. OK, I know they're both long dead, but you get the drift.

Bottom line is this: Both teams suck. The 2013 Mets suck more and the 1979 lost 99 times.

And we're going into the Subway Series tonight? Yankee fans this year can bring a broom to every game, because a sweep is inevitable, even with Harvey pitching Tuesday night.
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You can read more of my work at www.hudsonreporter.com, www.theobserver.com and www.dailyrecord.com.

Even with the loss, P.J. deserves to coach Nets

Sure, it was downright disappointing that the Brooklyn Nets lost Game 7 of their series with the Chicago Bulls.
Sure, the Bulls were the walking wounded with players having every malady under the sun except for malaria and Rocky Mountain Spotted Fever and the Nets were the relatively healthier and deeper squad and the Bulls still won.

And yes, Tom Thibodeau proved that he's the best coach in the NBA bar none and willed his team to win the franchise's first-ever Game 7 on the road, punching every single right button along the way. Daequan Cook? Did he really hit two big 3-pointers in the game? I didn't even know he was on the Bulls' roster until that second trey hit the bottom of the twine.

Thibodeau had an answer for every single out-of-bounds possession the Bulls had. Every single one. There wasn't an improvisation to be found. All set plays, all leading to baskets.

So, yes, P.J. Carlesimo was the second best head coach on the floor last night at the Barclays Center. I think even P.J. would reluctantly agree that he played second fiddle to Thibodeau last night. P.J. was not bad, but Thibodeau was just that much better. It happens.

However, getting outcoached by a master isn't reason enough for Carlesimo to receive his walking papers from the Nets' Russian czar Mikhail Prohkorov. Regardless of what you may read in some of the New York tabloids today, calling for P.J.'s carcass, it's not his fault that the Nets didn't move on.

In fact, Carlesimo did a wonderful job coaching the Nets for 57 games. He won 37 of those games. There's no way that if the powers-that-be stuck with the now-forgotten Avery Johnson (well, forgotten by everyone except Avery's own son, who put on Twitter his own version of a 'Ha-Ha, that's what you get for canning my old man), that Johnson would have led the Nets to that point. There's no way. That team was headed for disaster before the team fired him in December.

Carlesimo got the most out of most of his players. He helped to turn Brook Lopez into a star. He got the daily malcontent, Deron Williams, to actually play like himself down the stretch and even helped Williams crack a smile or two along the way. He won games despite the fact that the team got very little offensive production all season from either forward position. Hell, the Nets won 49 regular season games with Reggie Evans as their starting power forward. Reggie Evans can't throw a beach ball into the swimming pool, but the Nets won with him.

It wasn't Carlesimo's fault that Joe Johnson, getting paid $19 million, couldn't make shots in Game 7 or that Thibodeau exposed the defensive weaknesses of Lopez, Evans and Andray Blatche. Carlesimo did what he could with the roster he was handed. It just wasn't good enough against a master like Thibodeau.

My friend Mike Vaccaro, the New York Post columnist, wrote that Carlesimo was playing checkers to Thibodeau's chess or even Chutes and Ladders to Thibodeau. He's right. The intangible of having Thibodeau as the head coach was enough to win Game 7.

But let's look at the whole body of work. Carlesimo handled the media better than any other New York coach outside of Joe Torre. He was brilliant in that respect. He also turned the Nets' season around in a blur and guided the team to the playoffs for the first time in six years. He's a basketball lifer who deserves to coach this team through a full training camp.

The Brooklyn Nets were a major success in Year One, from the arena to the positive vibe the team gave off to their new fan base. A lot of the credit of that success belongs to Carlesimo. He deserves the chance to coach this team next year and into the future.

Carlesimo needs to get more out of a very weird chemistry of this team, because they play weird. They disappear for stretches, usually in the third quarter. They play sometimes with no sense of urgency, like they did last night until they found themselves shockingly down 17 by halftime.

But P.J. deserves to be the head coach, plain and simple. They don't need Phil Jackson, who is going to tell the Nets to go stick it anyway. They don't need either Van Gundy brother. They don't even need Doc Rivers. They need to take the interim tag off Carlesimo's name and throw him a three-year contract.

And after that, they need to put out an APB for Johnson's jump shot, because it went missing at the way wrong time last night.
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As everyone knows, I'm a diehard Mets fan. Yeah, I know. It's masochism 101.

And by now, nothing the team does should surprise me.

However, I received a promotional e-mail this morning saying that next Sunday, on Mother's Day, the Mets "will present a special performance from the Wiggles" beginning at 12:30 p.m.

Yes, the Wiggles. First, they had Cirque de Soleil in the parking lot. Now, it's the Wiggles. I Tweeted this morning that if any of the Wiggles can play the outfield or serve as a middle inning closer, then I was all for them.

C'mon now. The Wiggles? Is that what we've become? The freakin' Wiggles?

I can't shake my head enough at this franchise.

We have not a single outfielder worth a spit. Mike Baxter would be a decent fourth outfielder on the Anaheim Angels' Class AAA team. Yet he's playing almost every day for the Mets. I think he went homerless in Little League. Colin Cowgill was supposed to be a great find, until he couldn't find the baseball and couldn't get on base. And neither one has a better arm than my dead mother.

We have a horrific bullpen (thanks Sandy, because he has said for the last two years, it was his priority to build a solid bullpen and we've had nothing but a conglomeration of smelly fish coming from behind the right field wall), yet we have the Wiggles. Hey, if all else fails, we at least have the Wiggles.

It's a sad state when the best relief pitcher is a 31-year-old rookie who spent 16 years in the minors and now pitches every single damn day. Scott Rice pitches every day. His arm will fall off by July. But Terry Collins keeps parading him out there every game because, frankly, no one else can get anyone out.

Incredibly, some asinine Met fans were calling the radio shows this week, saying they wanted Collins fired. Hell, managing this God-awful roster, he should be named Pope rather than get fired. Wait, maybe that is not a step up these days.

It's not Collins' fault that his bosses are lying, tight-wad buffoons who don't spend a dime improving the team or the franchise or the baseball experience at CitiField.

But wait, at least we have the Wiggles. Not many other teams can lay claim to the Wiggles.

Rumor has it that the Tellytubbies are next, as long as Tinky Winky can play centerfield.
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You can read more of my work at www.hudsonreporter.com, www.theobserver.com and www.dailyrecord.com. I'd say you can read my Nets or Devils coverage as well, but both those teams are on the golf course today as you read this.