MichaelLortz.com/JordiScrubbings.com

Unless you have been under a rock for the last two weeks, you have probably heard about the plight of ESPN reporter Erin Andrews. For those who don’t know, Andrews was the victim of an invasion of privacy as a peeper took a video of her in her hotel room as she prepared for work several months ago. Now Andrews is being stalked and her career is in pieces. In light of these and other embarrassing sidelines misadventures, I am sure ESPN and other sports networks are evaluating the relevance of sideline reporters.

Some of course will say that they are unnecessary, that they are nothing more than sideline eye candy – cheerleaders for the broadcast booth. I disagree. I think sideline reporters, whether they be down on the field or up in the stands, play a valuable role in the television experience.

If I was in charge of ESPN or any other sports broadcasting organization, I would look to push my sideline reporters off camera and on to another platform. I would look for a platform that can broadcast to the masses while at the same time protect the identities of my employees. I would embrace a platform that could enhance the viewing experience and provide key insight to the stories within the game, while not taking away from the main on-air talent.

I would use Twitter.

According to a recent Mashable.com post, people who are smarter than me about programming are striving to make the TV viewing experience much more interactive.

“Verizon FiOS TV is adding Facebook and Twitter integration, as well as several other social media options, to its service. Similar to the integrations we’ve seen on the Web, this allows you to update your status on either network when watching a given show or event and also see what your friends or the larger social media community is saying about it.”

If we are soon to arrive at the day when you can “sign in” to your TV and have your Twitter feed loaded on the right or left side of your screen, why not have sideline reporters report via twitter? There would be no need to cut them out. They would always be there, conducting interviews, digging up information, and getting the behind the scenes stuff the people in the booth can’t get. The only difference of course, would be that they would be broadcasting online in a constant stream, adding updates and nuggets of knowledge as they found it.

@ESPN_Sideline: “Talked to Coach Bowden @ halftime. Defense needs to step up.”

@ESPN_Sideline: “At Lakers v Celtics. KG says he is going to give 100%.”

@ESPN_Sideline: “Huge Yankees fan is wearing a lamp shade on his head. Ha ha.”

The possibilities don’t stop there. With Twitter comes the ability to interact. Viewers or anyone on Twitter could tweet their own information to @ESPN_Sideline, possibly providing leads or modifying the reporter’s tasks to fit the inquiries of the viewers. The viewers could also give tips or ideas to @ESPN_Sideline or supplement their broadcast with additional facts. The viewing experience becomes a community effort led by the unseen @ESPN_Sideline.

As an additional bonus, by not being on camera, the person behind @ESPN_Sideline does not have to worry about how they look on TV, what outfit may or may not be splashed across the front page of blogs, or if they are attracting hordes of seedy, nefarious, undersexed, pubescent losers.

In addition to @ESPN_Sideline or other online reporters, perhaps professional sports leagues will acquiesce to the idea of players tweeting during games. Maybe if asked by @ESPN_Sideline, players would be allowed to answer online.

@ESPN_Sideline: “@The_Real_Shaq: What do u need to do to play better in the 2nd half”

@The_Real_Shaq: “@ESPN_Sideline: I need to play w/in myself. Better D. Fly like Superman. LOL”

All this again can happen while the broadcast is ongoing. Tweeting sideline reporters would in no way impede the in-game announcers (no more “kicking it back to the booth”), nor will they interfere with pre-game, halftime, or post-game shows. They aren’t even constrained by commercials.

Maybe the 35 year run of sideline reporters isn’t over. Maybe their demise in the wake of the Erin Andrews privacy snafu is presumptuous. Maybe they will be the impetus in a revolution in sports broadcasting. Maybe Andrews sacrificed herself for the greater good.

Introducing @ESPN_Sideline.

UPDATE: As Sun Sports / Fox Sports Florida reporter Whit Watson points out in his blog, his network has been actively employing Twitter during their broadcasts for quite some time. Both Watson himself and the Sun Sports Fox Sports Florida network have Twitter accounts, and are encouraged to use them at will, creating an increased interaction with fans and viewers. You should definitely go read his blog as it makes an exceptional complimentary piece to this post.

I am not a deadline sort of guy. I don’t like ‘em. Way too final. You know what I don’t understand? How did flatline come to mean death, and deadline is used for everything else? If you flatline aren’t you pretty much dead? Shouldn’t that be called the deadline? After all, it’s a line, and you are dead.

Speaking of dead, how soon do you think it will be until I have to write the Pirates’ Eulogy for the the Eliminated? I’m saying before mid-August. I’ll have to round up the pallbearers, Undertakers, and Kanes.

Do you think the Pirates could have landed Rod Beck, Darren Lewis, and Royce Clayton from the Giants for Barry Bonds in 1992? And do you think they could have gotten Gregg Jefferies and Pete Schourek from the Mets for Bobby Bonilla in 1991?

When I heard Gregg Jefferies used to swing a bat in a pool as part of his training, I wanted to do that so bad. All my mother would let me use in our pool was a wiffle ball bat. WTF, Mom? How was I supposed to be the second coming of Darryl Strawberry with a wiffle ball bat? Well, I guess all I really needed to do to be the next Darryl would be snort some blow, drink myself into a stupor, get cancer, and get picked up by the cops a few times. I guess Mom was right, I really didn’t need to be swinging a bat in the pool.

But anyways, because I am not a famous baseball player (thanks, mom!), I’ve decided to go to the crossroads. I am going to make a deal with the devil. Are there deadlines when dealing with the devil? Is it like baseball, where you have to negotiate before midnight on a certain night? Do some souls come with a no-trade clause? Can I just throw in a soul to be named later? I hope the devil looks more like Elizabeth Hurley than Martin Brodeur.

See, I brought it back to deals, deadlines, and the fact that the Pirates traded everyone with big league experience on their team for the Lake Panasoffkee Township Little League All-Stars. Rumor has it the Pirates front office thinks there might be a number one starter in the bunch. Maybe even a future fourth outfielder.

This from the same team that has signed two guys from an Indian game show, a Lithuanian, and a Australian. Andy Van Slyke is probably rolling in his grave.

Ok, now on to your nightly recap:

Winners: Angels, Giants, Mariners, Orioles, Marlins, A’s, Padres, Tigers, Brewers, Twins, Cardinals, Diamondbacks, Yankees, and the Cubs.

Losers: Everyone else except the Mets and Rockies – they got postponed. Which is almost cause for celebration for the Mets.

By the way, Jermaine Dupri said on Thursdays he dresses nice and makes some money. Because you know cash rules everything around me (C.R.E.A.M.).

Contrary to popular belief, MTV and MTV2 do play music videos. Sandwiched between 56 different types of teen-targeted reality shows is AMTV, a varying block of music videos airing anytime between 2AM and 8AM EST. AMTV is MTV the way MTV used to be and the way it should be, straight up “music television”. None of that “16 and Pregnant” crap.

Lately, AMTV has been part of my TV rotation during breakfast. Depending on my mood, I’ll flip from SportsCenter to AMTV to the morning local news and then, of course, back to SportsCenter. Since I’ve become a semi-frequent viewer of AMTV, I’ve seen some of the worst videos and songs I’ve ever seen. I’m not a fan of much new rock (especially the wannabe punk-influenced or emo-influenced unimaginative garbage); definitely not a fan of the pseudo R&B, auto-tune dance ballad stuff; and the art of lyricism has all but disappeared from mainstream hip-hop. I’m not sure if this makes me old and out of touch, but it is what it is.

The other day, however, a funny thing happened. I saw the following videos in a row:

Street Sweeper Social Club – 100 Little Curses

Jadakiss – Who’s Real

K’Naan – T.I.A.

What surprises me is that all three of these videos and songs have social messages. Street Sweeper Social Club is frequently openly critical of America and especially the capitalist philosophy. Although the weakest of the group, Jadakiss is definitely sending a social message when the decries against “fake” people. And K’Naan is a Somalia rapper with a globalist view who has expressed sympathy towards the plight of Somali pirates.

According to their songs, all three of these of groups are fed up with the current social-economic situation (in order of frustration: SSSC, K’Naan, and Jadakiss). The same situation and economic conditions that helped MTV (Viacom) grow to the mega-billion dollar machine it is now. Of course, I really doubt MTV agrees with the opinions and views expressed in all its videos, but it is going to be difficult for them to shut down an opposition they are now feeding. When videos were all about flash and bling and big cars, it was easy for MTV to attach programming on cribs, pimping rides, and the good life. But what about when times change?

Of course I expect MTV to exploit the down economy. Socially conscious videos have been around since Grandmaster Flash and the Furious Five came out with “The Message”. But as more people grow aware of what is going on around them, more artists are going to make music expressing these thoughts. Slowly the music will be more educated and the viewers will want to see videos that make sense and represent their reality, not the corporate-driven image of fake success. It is the old mantra that art represents life. To quote veteran socially conscious rapper Paris “labels never made the culture – you got it twisted“.

Cultural programming is easy when the culture is fat, dumb, and sedated. But what happens when they wake up?

(Images found on www.turnoffyourtv.com.)

(This post also seen on Thunder Matt’s Saloon.)

One of my favorite movies is HBO’s 1996 original Soul of the Game – the story of Negro League stars Jackie Robinson, Josh Gibson, and Satchel Paige and their struggle to brake baseball’s color barrier and be the first African-American to play in the Majors. It is the story of the young Robinson and his relationship with the older Paige and Gibson and their reactions as the former gets the call the latter two feel they deserve.

In the movie, as well as in reality, time unfortunately was not on the side of Satchel Paige, who although he eventually received a big league opportunity, was far beyond the peak of his career. But Paige would not let his age or his diminished ability deter him from his goals of making it to the bigs, milking and cajoling his arm in the desperate hope that it still had a few good innings left.

I saw a lot of the Satchel Paige character as I watched Pedro Martinez pitch for the Class-A Clearwater Threshers on Sunday. Martinez, signed by the Phillies a few weeks ago, was clearly not the Pedro of old and I could tell he knew it. The 97 mph fastball was long gone, the aura and mystic was fading, and he was fighting to prove his ability to merely contribute. The former Cy Young ace was now a conjurer, a Merlin of the mound, hoping his knowledge, guile, and a little bit of smoke and mirrors was enough to make it back to the Show.

Sadly, I don’t think it was. In his first start against live batters since the World Baseball Classic, Pedro threw 1 and 1/3 innings in a rain-shortened game against the St. Lucie Mets. As it was the major league Mets who put him out to pasture after last season, the minor league Mets put the final nail in his legendary career. Although I didn’t expect Pedro to dominate, it was clear he was struggling. Most of his pitches were up in the zone, the Mets were getting good wood on the ball, and he only produced one swinging miss, albeit on a classic Pedro change-up. The box score will say Pedro didn’t do that badly, giving up one hit, hitting a batter, and striking one. But great change-up aside, I’d say his tank is empty.

There is another scene in Soul of the Game when after an exhibition against major league all-stars is rained out, the Josh Gibson character stands in the downpour and yells up to God, knowing full well the rain closed the door on his last chance. I saw a lot of the Josh Gibson character in Pedro as the umpires motioned for the players to clear the field. While the younger players scampered past him to shelter, Pedro Martinez slowly walked off the mound, tipping his cap to the many fans who came only to see him.

I have been a Pedro Martinez fan for a long time, and I don’t hope this is true, but I wouldn’t be surprised if Sunday was the last day of Pedro Martinez’s brilliant baseball career.

First it was the Cowbell Kid, then the Afro-Squad moved to Tampa, now fans of the University of South Tampa have embraced the ‘fro as a symbol of power and good times.

Although I wish this kid was a Seminole and not a Bull, the fact that he’s sporting a ‘fro makes me smile. Until September 26th, then it’s on like Donkey Kong.

In case you aren’t following me on twitter, on facebook, on myspace, via google reader, via google profiles, on my youtube channel, or via an RSS feed, you might not know I wrote on a few other sites this week.

Over at Thunder Matt’s Saloon, I had two posts:

First, I discussed what I watched on TV Sunday night instead of the ESPYs. CNBC was where it was it at, with shows on weed and porn.

Counter programming on the Night of the ESPYs

Then a few days later, I wrote about aliens and the Cubs and cartoons.

Shoulda Been Dead on a Thursday Morning, Banging My Head

Over at ScalpEm.com, I wrote about former FSU great Ron Simmons and his recent induction in the College Football Hall of Fame. Of course, I had to drop a few references to Simmons’s career as a pro wrestler, including his 1999 match in Tallahassee in front of the home crowd.

Ron Simmons is a Hall of Famer

By the way, did you know you can get these posts and more when you sign up to follow me at any one of the following locations:

My twitter account

My facebook fanpage

My google reader page

My YouTube Account

My err… Agent J’s Myspace page

My google profile page

Sign up today! Free!

Over the last two years I have told you all about my love life, how my long distance, long-time love has fallen apart time and time again and how I have slowly drifted towards my fun, exciting, local interest. Well, today I found out comedian Jim Breuer is also friends with my long distance love. And, not coincidentally, he is also confused by her erratic behavior.

Here is what Jim said during a recent radio interview:

“It’s like being in love with an alcoholic. It’s like, you constantly defend her, and people are like, ‘Dude, your alcoholic friend is a mess,’ and you’re like, ‘Nah, you don’t know her like I do.’”

Yup, I’d say Jim Breuer and I know the same person.

(H/T Metsblog.com)

Greetings. The Great Jordi is back. In some parts I am known as Agent J, but that is neither here nor there. Well, it is actually there, as it is in some places, which have to be there, because they are certainly not here, unless you were there, in which they would be here. And if they were here, then I must stop talking to you because I am not ready and it is impolite to have guests over when you are not ready. So therefore, ipso facto, e pluribus unum, because I am not ready they are not here so they must be there. So there.

Now I am completely off course on what I wanted to talk about. But because I have a steady first mate*, I will bring myself back on course in a moment.

(By the way, the dance team in my high school was called the First Mates. I always think of them when I think of first mates. Hot, nubile, young, dancer girls, not some scruffy assistant captain with scurvy. But I digress.)

Anyway, did you know there was a Science Fiction writer named Jerome Walton?

Notice something about that page. There is an accurate birthday, but no death date. Dare I say “WTF”? How does a popular Science Fiction writer just vanish? Did he get abducted by aliens?

Do you remember that movie Fire in the Sky? All about being abducted. By space men. Speaking of, I watched Phinneas and Ferb tonight and they were in space, pretending to be astronauts. Seriously, if you are not watching Phinneas and Ferb you are selling yourself short and doing yourself a disservice. While the rest of the Saloon is watching cooking shows, I am watching cartoons.

And that’s just the way it is. Some things will never change.

By the way, the following teams were declared winners last night by outscoring their opponents before the close of the 9th inning:

Pirates, Yankees, Rockies, A’s, Marlins, Nationals, Mariners, and Blue Jays, Braves, Rangers, Angels, Astros, White Sox, and Dodgers, and Cubs.

If your favorite team was not listed on this list, they probably either didn’t play, or lost.

Peace out.

(Originally posted on ScalpEm.com.)

Last weekend marked a momentous occasion for one of Bobby Bowden’s first great players.  Ron Simmons, who played for FSU from 1977 to 1980, was enshrined into the College Football Hall of Fame on Saturday.

(Question: Why does this article say he was inducted back in 2008? I am confused. Is there a difference between enshrined and inducted?)

Being a bit too young to remember Simmons in a Nole uniform, most of my memories of him center around his pro wrestling career, where he won several titles in the WWF and WCW. I even got his autograph when WWF Smackdown came to Tallahassee in 1999.

That wrestling event surprisingly pulled even the toughest Seminole heartstrings. When Simmons, then known as Farooq, and his tag team partner, Bradshaw, came down the aisle, the Civic Center crowd went absolutely nuts, breaking out in the Seminole Chant. You could even see that Simmons, normally a tough guy in the ring, was a little emotional about his “homecoming”. He wasted no time when he got in the ring, jumping on the turnbuckles and leading the crowd in their chanting and chopping.

As for Simmons and Bradshaw’s opponents, the Mean Street Posse, well, they didn’t stand a chance. Simmons and Bradshaw beat them in about 2 minutes, with Simmons dealing the final knock-out via a fitting chop to his opponent’s head. Victorious, Simmons walked back up the ramp to the sound of more chanting and the sight of more tomahawk chopping.

So congrats to Ron Simmons on becoming the latest Seminole in the College Football Hall of Fame.

Damn.

I have never been a big fan of award shows. I don’t watch the Oscars, the Tonys, the Emmys, the BET Awards, the CMT Awards, or any other WTF Awards show out there. Instead of being about the fans and the entertainment, award shows end up being industry love-fests where celebrities drool all over each other. And few, if any, of these awards shows are worse than ESPN’s ESPY awards.

Way back in day, I used to be excited about the ESPYs. I not only watched, but even taped the first ever ESPY award show. An award show that celebrates the best in sports over the last year? Sign me up. Then it began to pander to celebrities – actors and actresses and the like. No thanks.

So with my normal Sunday night routine of unwinding to baseball destroyed thanks to the ESPYs, I embarked on a channel surfing journey to find something interesting to watch. Admittedly, I am not an avid TV watcher and I don’t have any routine shows, so I was embarking into the vast programming unknown. Fortunately, I only had to travel less than a dozen channels before I landed on CNBC’s Marijuana Inc, an exposé on the pseudo-legal marijuana business in Northern California.

Now I am not going to push my opinion either way, nor admit or deny any prior usage, but I have always been interested in the weed business. Back in my college days, however, I used to play Dope Wars non-stop. Perhaps you remember that. Perhaps not.

Anyway, CNBC’s broadcast went behind the scenes in Northern California’s Mendocino County, a place where selling weed is a booming business and millions in marijuana money is brought into the local economy each year. Thanks to a tangled web of federal, state, and local laws, growers are allowed to grow, buyers are allowed to buy, and smokers are allowed to smoke. CNBC talked to cafe owners who sell out of storage areas, entrepreneurs who want to turn parts of Oakland into the second coming of Amsterdam, housewives who attend classes on how not to get caught selling, and the poor DEA and local authorities who are trying to restore order in this Mecca of Mary Jane.

After Marijuana, Inc ended, what to watch then was a no-brainer. The next show on CNBC was a similar expose on the porn industry entitled Porn: The Business of Pleasure. You can’t tell me the folks at CNBC didn’t know what they were doing, broadcasting two hours of content on two topics my demographic (18-35, male, single, and bored) love as much as sports. You are correct, CNBC, in lieu of sports, weed and women work just fine.

Although there were the expected images of bikini clad women throughout the broadcast, the porn business expose was not all about the T&A. Did you know the porn industry is worth over 13 billion dollars? Did you also know that adult DVD sales have dropped between 30 and 50% in the last few years? That’s what this show covered, the money, the people, and the technology behind the business of horizontal body banging.

All in all, it was an enjoyable night of television entertainment. I did find it interesting, however, that the host of the weed documentary was casually dressed in jeans and a polo shirt, and the host of the porn special was gussied up in knee-high boots and heavy make-up. And I also had a chuckle every time they mentioned women in executive positions of the porn industry being “on top”. I’m not sure if those things were worth noticing, or if they were a big deal to anyone else. Maybe I was thinking too much.

Maybe I should have relaxed, rolled one up, popped in a movie, and conducted my own research.