Of curling, aborigine costumes, infomercials and "red light photo enforced" zones ...

Thoughts, musings, gripes, suggestions and what have you, as the Games of the XXIII Winter Olympiad come to an end ...

--Since I've swept a few kitchen floors in my day -- and have played shuffleboard in a sports bar -- I figured that I, too, could compete on an Olympic curling team.

--I can't say I was surprised to see a story on some online news service about the Canadian Foundation for AIDS preparing to send an emergency shipment of condoms to the Olympics. What puzzles me is that no one in Vancouver has called for emergency shipments of Viagra or Cialis!

--I couldn't get enough of watching the Olympic ski jump competition. It has to be quite a rush to stretch out over one's skis, float through the air, stay airborne for as long as you can -- and then make a perfect landing without breaking your neck. Yet they make it look so easy. Amazing!

--What's with the two Russian ice dancers (left) decked out in some colorful (almost psychedelic), yet downright strange Australian aborigine costume? Is this "What Not to Wear" or the Winter Olympics?

--I'm sure you've seen the countless infomercials promising rock-hard abs after 90 days. Funny thing is, most of the individuals in the before/after photos look better before they started than after!

--Speaking of infomercials II: Recently, I sat through an infomercial featuring Matthew Lesko -- the ultra-hyper fellow who dons suits dotted with question marks and hawks books that claim you can get hundreds, if not thousands, of dollars simply by applying for government programs. I'm convinced Lesko is the cure for anyone suffering from insomnia. Watching him jump around and yell for a few minutes will drain you of all your energy ... and you're guaranteed to fall asleep.

--Speaking of infomercials III: Has anyone seen a Richard Simmons infomercial lately?

--With spring just around the corner, I noticed Al Gore, head alarmist for the global warming movement, came out of hibernation this weekend with a lengthy manifesto on the New York Times op-ed page (what a surprise), titled, "We can't wish away climate change." Personally, I wish this charlatan would take a private jet to the North Pole and go sit on a melting glacier.

--I'm not downplaying the seriousness of all the mechanical flaws involving Toyota vehicles which have come to light in recent weeks -- specifically defects that cause cars to accelerate out of control. Yet I found it amusing that the House oversight committee grilled the president of Toyota for several hours over these issues. Personally, I think several members of Congress from both sides of the aisle ought to be sitting in front of a subcommittee and apologizing to us for their out-of-control spending that's bankrupting the country.

--If the McRib sandwich were a regular part of the menu at McDonald's, I'd be running through their drive-thru every day to pick one up.

--It must be a slow news day when Desiree Rogers, the White House social secretary, announces that she is resigning and looking for a new gig. (It's safe to assume she won't be sending her resume to either John Edwards or Tiger Woods.)

--It's been quite a while since I've gone to a first-run theater. Why? Well, since I can't understand most film titles nowadays -- Examples: The Imaginarium of Dr. Parnassus, Karthik Calling Karthik and Invictus -- I figure I won't understand the plot, either. So why spend the money?

--If I had a dollar for every time I've passed up a driver who's either punching numbers on his or her cell phone -- or blabbing on their cell phone -- I'd have retired a long time ago.

--I don't condone violence, but just once, I'd like to take a sledge hammer to one of these "red light photo enforced" camera sets (left). Consider yourself fortunate if you don't have to contend with these devices at every other block in your community.

--Today, I read a story about the plight of a major league baseball player who's shocked that spring training is under way, and he remains unemployed. Keep in mind he's turned down a few offers this winter -- one for $3 million per season. I guess he could always apply for unemployment benefits while he's still looking.

--I wish I were facing the hardships of some of the people who call into Bob Brinker's "Money Talk" radio program each Saturday and ask Bob what they should do with either a pile of cash they're sitting on, or their investment properties.

It's always about the money when $100 million isn't enough

While taking advantage of the $6 soup-and-sandwich lunch combo at a local restaurant earlier this month, I nearly choked on the sandwich portion of my lunch as I skimmed through a small item in the Sports Briefs section of a metro newspaper.

Ilya Kovalchuk, a forward for the Atlanta Thrashers' National Hockey League team, is set to become an unrestricted free agent July 1. For those of you who don't follow sports, it means he can either choose to stay with the Thrashers, or bolt Hot-lanta (Snow-lanta these days) and find a new suitor after July 1. (Usually, it's the franchise that is willing to pony up enough coin to employ said free agent's unique skill sets.)

Kovalchuk insisted he didn't care about his contract situation, and I certainly have to take him at his word because he turned his nose up at $100 million. That's right. Kovalchuk, a native or Russia, recently said nyet to Atlanta's final contract extension offer -- 12-years, $101 million.

To put this sum in perspective, it is only $63 million shy of the 2009 Gross Domestic Product of the Republic of Palau, a small island nation east of the Philippines.

With Kovalchuk -- one of the league's premier players -- preparing to pack his bags after July 1, the Thrashers wouldn't have received any sort of compensation in the form of players, draft picks or cash. So they traded him to the New Jersey Devils recently for two players and a first-round draft pick.

Such scenarios have become the norm in the world of pro sports. Many factors nowadays -- free agency, an athlete's agent, salary caps, guaranteed contracts, incentive-laden contracts, signing bonuses -- tend to dictate who shows up on the Scoreboard page under "Transactions." In the National Basketball Association, for instance, it's not uncommon to hear about players being traded not so much for the value they might bring to their new team, but because the players' salaries come close to matching up. (Thus, a team can plug their new player into the old player's slot and not be concerned about how it affects its salary cap.)

I don't begrudge pro athletes for wanting to cash in on a big payday. Usually, their careers are short-lived (the average NFL career, for example, is 3 1/2 years). And as much as we like to chastise athletes for bolting our favorite teams ("Where's the loyalty?" we ask), those of us in the working world are essentially free agents, too. If you feel you're not being justly compensated, you are under no obligation to stick with the company for which you labor (unless you signed a contract). You have the choice of clicking on your favorite online job board and shopping for a new company and a better salary. And if you get what you want, you'll jump ship.

Nor do I necessarily fault an athlete's agent. Sure, there are a few agents whom I'd place under the category of bottom-feeding dirtballs. But I'm sure most agents and their staffs work hard in what has to be a cut-throat environment to get the player they represent the best deal possible in the marketplace. And when it comes down to it, you and I essentially determine what the market value is for these athletes because we pay the ticket prices, tune into TV and radio broadcasts, and likely purchase whatever products the sponsors of these broadcasts happen to be peddling.

These points notwithstanding, when an athlete turns down an offer in the financial stratosphere that Kovalchuk just brushed aside -- this after saying he wanted to remain with Atlanta "for life" -- I can't help but scratch my head and wonder what goes through their skulls. Do they ever turn on the news and realize how good they've got it? Does hundreds of thousands of dollars start looking like pocket change after a while? In Kovalchuk's case, how much will it take to pacify him if $101 million doesn't do the trick?

It'll be interesting to see how much more Kovalchuk will rake in when he signs with another team this summer, and what he'll say when he's formally introduced by his new team at a press conference. He'll likely discuss how much he wants to win, and how signing with his new club gives him the best chance to capture a Stanley Cup, hockey's ultimate prize. (His old team currently has a winning record, but if the season ended today, Atlanta would not make the playoffs.)

Talking about winning always makes for good sound bites. But, really, is there any athlete, Pop Warner or professional, who doesn't want to win? However, if Kovalchuk starts talking about "security for my family" or "feeding my family," or feeds us the old "it wasn't about the money" line, we know better.

It's about the money. It's always about the money. Since $101 million wasn't enough, what else could it be except the money?

Monday morning QB: Tebow ad makes foes look foolish

The hype surrounding a 30-second spot involving college football star quarterback Tim Tebow and his mother, Pam -- which aired during the first quarter of the Super Bowl -- arguably exceeded all the ballyhoo usually reserved for the game itself.

The backdrop for the ad, funded by Focus on the Family -- a Colorado-based Christian organization that advocates family issues -- is how Pam, who was pregnant when she got sick during a missions trip to the Philippines in 1987, chose to ignore recommendations from doctors to abort her fifth child. Instead, she gave birth to child No. 5, Tim, who most sports fans know has won the Heisman Trophy -- college football's top individual accolade -- and has led the University of Florida to two national championships.

CBS Corp. decided to ease restrictions on advocacy ads if they were, in its words, "responsibly produced," in time for this Super Bowl. Not surprisingly, it fielded protests from a coalition of women's groups who raised a stink that this spot, to be seen by millions, could do some damage to the pro-choice cause. (Maybe they have reason to be concerned. A Gallup poll indicates that for the first time since 1995, 51 percent of Americans identify themselves as pro-life, compared to 42 percent who consider themselves pro-choice.)

Many commentators, columnists and political pundits believe CBS Corp.'s decision to air the spot opens up a Pandora's Box. Who will be the next group with a political, social or moral cause -- and the cash -- to approach CBS for a chance to air their point of view (subtlely or not so subtlely) on one of the year most-watched events?

I really can't argue with those who want to keep ads that have a political, social or moral message out of the Super Bowl. Let's face it: The Super Bowl is an event where we can take a break from everyday life, unemployment figures, Osama Bin-Laden, Tiger Woods and Jay Leno vs. Conan O'Brien. We anticipate watching all the commericals to see which ones leave us doubled over in laughter. I know I do.

But since CBS has taken the lid off Pandora's Box, I admittedly anticipated gauging the reaction to Mom and Junior Tebow's 30-second spiel on life. Well, the commercial turned out to be as uneventful as Y2K and Geraldo Rivera opening Al Capone's secret vault.

Pam Tebow started the ad by saying Tim was her miracle baby. She described how he almost didn't make it into this world, recalling how she almost lost him several times during her pregnancy.

A few seconds later, Tim appears to be tackling his mother (obviously staged, but it initially shocked me because it sure looked real!). She snaps right back up, and says, "Timmy, I'm trying to tell a story."

"You still worry about me, Mom?"

"Well, yes. (But) you're not nearly as tough as I am."

She then said, "He's my Timmy, and I love him." Tim puts his arms around Mom, and says, "I love you too, Mom."

That's all, folks. No mention of abortion. No judgemental or in-your-face political rhetoric. The only instances in which the spot annoyed me was when Mrs. Tebow repeatedly called her grown-up son "Timmy."

All told, I found the ad to be refreshingly wholesome, compared to sitting through the usual menu of light beer, godaddy.com and, in years past, Cialis and Viagra commercials. Even the treasurer of the National Organization for Women in North Palm Beach County, where the game took place, said the ad was "very quick, and it was very mild. I didn't find it terribly offensive."

However, for almost two weeks, the women's groups I referred to earlier -- consisting of NOW, the Feminist Majority and the Women's Media Center -- threw a collective hissy fit over the Tebow ad, even though neither they, nor the general public, had not yet seen the commercial.

NOW Vice President Erin Matson, called the ad "hate masquerading as love."

"An ad that uses sports to divide rather than unite has no place in the biggest national sports event of year," huffed Jehmu Greene, president of the Women's Media Center."

Then there was Joy Behar, a commedian turned annoying shill who proves that just about anyone in America could host a talk show, if given the opportunity. (How she's managed to land prominent roles on two gab fests -- The View, which she co-hosts, and her own gig on CNN -- is beyond me.)

On The View, Behar concocted this wacky observation in reference to the Tebow ad:

"The only argument against any of it is, that, you know, he (Tim Tebow) could have become some kind of rapist pedophile (had he been born, instead of becoming a football player). I mean, you don't know what someone's going to (turn out to) be."

Maybe not, but in Joy's case, I can predict most fair-minded people will conclude that her remarks are ridiculous. And they made her look foolish -- like the rest of her cohorts who, if you'll pardon the expression, got their panties in a bunch for nothing.