December Madness?

It's long been my belief that when it comes to a true D-I college football playoff, money will talk. The only way to bring every conference commissioner, bowl organizer, and university president on board is to prove, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that a postseason tournament will make everybody richer.

To his credit, that's exactly what University of Florida president Bernie Machen is trying to do.

Before we take another leap into this maelstrom, let's agree on some terms: it really is all about the money. The counter-arguments to a college football playoff -- the potential irrelevance of regular-season games (including the possibility that a team might rest starters or otherwise put it in cruise control once a playoff berth is secure), the logistical challenges of incorporating the current bowl structure into a tournament, plus the myriad complaints about abandoning tradition, etc. -- all have merit. Go ahead and peruse Brian's College Football Resource site for a passionate and detailed argument against a playoff.

Now, once you've assembled all of those counter-arguments, ask yourself this: what's the real worry about a playoff? Not for fans, media guys, and bloggers, but for those who have the power to make it happen -- the aforementioned conference commissioners, bowl organizers, and university presidents? What are they worried about?

Money.

"Lessening the impact of regular season games" translates into "we might not sell as many tickets." Bowl organizers who lament the fact that a playoff would prevent bowl teams from spending a full week or two in their town (true) are terrified about the lost hotel nights and reduced local spending, which in turn hampers their efforts to sell local sponsorships. Concerns about a fan base traveling from playoff site to playoff site? Same thing. Tougher travel = fewer fans = less money. You can't link every complaint to dollars, only most of them. Hate to sound cynical, but this is a business.

Understand that I'm not supporting one side or the other -- yet. I'm simply reducing the argument to its most powerful driving force. Which is what Dr. Machen of UF is doing on Thursday at the Southeastern Conference's spring meetings in Destin, Florida.

As he told the Tampa Tribune, "There may be -- and you won't know this until you test it -- $100 to $200 million that's not on the table" under the current bowl/BCS format. He points to the NCAA men's basketball tournament, which costs CBS $545 million per year (!) to televise, compared to the Fox Bowl Championship Series contract's annual value of $83 million (redundant full disclosure: Fox is the parent company of Sun Sports. And may I add that Rupert Murdoch is not only a handsome man, but a snappy dresser and a pretty good dancer).

In other words, Dr. Machen plans to argue that we're all gonna make a ton of dough with a playoff. Not only has this argument been offered before, there was, at one time, money "on the table," according to that same Tampa Tribune article. College football fans may dimly remember a plan from a Swiss outfit in the late '90s that called for a 16-team playoff (later reduced to 8 teams) and a payout of between $2.5 and $3 billion dollars.

It's worth noting that the Swiss company, International Sports and Leisure (ISL), once held the marketing rights to soccer's World Cup, a fairly decent tournament in its own right. However, ISL is now out of business, partially due to charges of corruption. So maybe we should take that historic "offer" with a healthy grain of salt.

Anyway, "cash on the table" did not and has not resulted in a playoff yet. Resistance is fierce, particularly from influential figures like Big Ten commissioner Jim Delany, who told the Tribune, "a hundred million dollars is not going to sway us when $2 billion didn't." To add a pile of intrigue to this story, Machen has suggested that if the Big Ten and Pac-10 are so vehemently opposed to altering their historic ties with the Rose Bowl, perhaps they should sit this one out.

Machen: "My approach would be that the other conferences and schools would devise a playoff system, and we'll see if the Big Ten and the Pac-10 can stay outside of it ... With a lot more money on the table and a true playoff system, they're going to say 'Sorry, we're going to Pasadena?' We'll see."

Zoicks. How about a Steel Cage Death Match, two falls, TV time remaining?

It's important to note how the central question of the playoff debate has shifted over the last couple of years. At one point, it was "can we do it?" -- the logistics seemed overwhelming. Machen, and others, have slowly pushed this conversation in the more relevant direction -- "should we do it?"

Of course we can do it, as I've written here before. Logistics are no longer a serious hurdle. Even if you despise the various playoff models -- including the soon-to-be world-famous Rados Plan from Ft. Walton Beach's very own Tom Rados, the staunchest Florida State fan in the entire United States Air Force -- the simple addition of the BCS Championship Game last year has created the possibility of at least a "College Football Final Four." A mini-Madness, if you will.

Would that be enough to satisfy playoff proponents? Is it inclusive enough? Will access to the promised land be granted to the Boise States and Louisvilles of the world, those programs who have clearly demonstrated the ability to compete with the traditional powers on the field, but are held down by conference ties? Probably not, but the point is, it's possible.

So forget "can we?" With enough money on the table, and a guarantee that every stakeholder will get a piece of the pie, we can. Instead, ask "should we?"

I, for one, am at a crossroad.

My egalitarian nature wishes for a true "all comers" Division I football tournament. Pointing to the aforementioned programs like Boise State and Louisville (and South Florida, and Toledo, and Utah, and about a dozen others), there's a part of me that wants to see it decided on the field. I love underdogs; I love it when "traditional" powers are compelled to ride something other than reputation. As we've discussed around here many times, the gap between the haves and have-not's in D-I football has never been closer. There are a lot of good teams out there, but they're playing for a very limited number of berths in upper-tier bowls, many of which were devised when America had maybe five great college football programs (and three of them were Army, Cornell, and Yale). Maybe it's time for the postseason to catch up with the regular season. For that matter, maybe the largest, most powerful athletic programs in the NCAA -- major college football teams -- should catch up with their fellow student-athletes and actually decide a true national champion. I've written it before: the NCAA conducts national championships in more than 80 sports, male and female. Division I college football is not one of them. Doesn't that seem breathtakingly ridiculous?

Plus, despite the naysayers, I believe that a playoff could produce some hellaciously fun 3-14 or 5-12 matchups (and the possibility of a coasting team in a power conference getting upset in the first round by a scorching team from a weak conference bugs the crap out of some fans of some of those power conference teams, which, in my perverse world, makes me all warm and fuzzy inside).

But...

Saturdays in Tallahassee are a blast. Same with Gainesville, Norman, Columbus, Happy Valley, Death Valley (both of 'em), Tuscaloosa, Eugene, Madison, and dozens more college towns. If we know we're playing it off at the end of the year, do we lose that electric game day atmosphere? Is the urgency -- the buzz and hum of the pregame, the sheer terror at the prospect of an upset, the joyous bonding of 90,000 relative strangers singing a goofy fight song in victory, the very identity of college football -- removed?

Something else -- bowl games are fun, too. This January, I actually got the chance to attend a college football game live and in person, a true rarity in my business. It was the Capital One Bowl in Orlando, pitting Arkansas against Wisconsin. Tailgating and seeing friends and neighbors while hollering like an idiot about two teams that mean nothing to me -- that was quite a release for a TV guy who is locked in a studio from August through December. It was about ten times better for the thousands upon thousands of Hogs and Badgers for whom Orlando was the carrot at the end of a long season. Is there anything wrong with playing well in your conference and enjoying a working vacation someplace (hopefully) warm and inviting in January?

No, there's not. Not a damn thing. It doesn't crown a true national champion, but how much does that matter? And to whom? If we create a playoff, who are we creating it for? Fans? Players? Alumni? Or television? Money talks. What will it say?

And the final, most important question: We know we can, but should we?

I haven't decided on an answer yet. But at least we're discussing the correct question.

The Magic Coaching Train

I needed some time to gather my thoughts.

I've gathered my thoughts.

David Whitley of the Orlando Sentinel captured the essence of the Magic's dilemma with Brian Hill brilliantly in a column on Thursday morning -- and I say "brilliantly" because I wrote essentially the same thing in this space exactly three weeks ago.

David's version: "[The Magic] left themselves no choice, first by hiring an authoritarian like Hill, then by hoping he might turn into a different kind of coach at age 59. So where did he go wrong? Hill probably would say nowhere, which is the problem. He is as focused and honorable a man as you'll meet. If the Magic were paying him $3 million a year, that probably worked out to $7.25 an hour. All that determination can make you rigid. And when Hill made a decision, it usually was non-negotiable. That's fine when things are going well. When they aren't, a little flexibility is called for. That's never been one of Hill's big attributes."

My version: "You will never find a coach, or a person, more meticulous than Brian Hill. His attention to detail is unparalleled, from his physical appearance to his plans for games and practices ... [but] when your fallback position is to outwork and outprepare the other guy, you can find trouble on game day, when things inevitably fall apart ... I would agree with those who claim that Coach Hill was reluctant to make adjustments when things didn't go according to plan, but I would add that planning is what got him here. You dance with the one that brung you ... If his job is indeed on the line, does he agree to loosen things up and let the kids play, or does he stick with the philosophy that kept him in the league in the first place?"

David's version is much more concise. Print versus blog and all that. Point being, we both watched a lot of Magic basketball over the last two years, and came to the same conclusion.

The conclusion reached by the Magic, obviously, was that Hill was either unwilling or unable to change his ways to fit the young talent on the Orlando roster. That was the key question in keeping Hill or not, and it took several weeks for GM Otis Smith and team president Bob Vander Weide to convince themselves of the answer.

If you're a glass-half-full kind of fan, there's cause for optimism here. If the Magic didn't believe that they had a team capable of winning at a much higher clip, they would never have made this move.

[UPDATE: I wrote that last sentence on Thursday night. On Friday morning, Otis Smith was quoted in the Orlando Sentinel thusly: "Obviously, we think we have a good enough basketball team to be further along than we were or else we wouldn't be making this change." So there.]

It boiled down to this: the front office thought the team could win, with a few changes in philosophy. They asked themselves if those changes would take place under the current head coach. Based on their observations of the last two years and, presumably, their conversations with Brian himself, the answer was unsatisfactory. Coach is gone. Welcome to the NBA. Now you're beginning to understand why it's called a "players' league."

But let's get one thing straight: Brian Hill did EXACTLY what he was hired to do. As he put it, "I was asked to come in and change the culture, bring defense and professionalism and preparation. I think I established all those things in the first year."

Agreed. Lest we forget, this Orlando team was a train wreck when Brian was hired in 2005. Doc Rivers begat Johnny Davis, who begat Chris Jent (!) as head coaches. The John Weisbrod Experiment resulted in trading away Tracy McGrady and bringing in Steve Francis, Cuttino Mobley, and Kelvin Cato, none of whom had a "hockey mentality." Brian didn't do any of that; the Magic did it all by themselves. As Hill told John Denton of Florida Today: "Two years ago when I was hired the organization was at an all-time low and the basketball operations department was in disarray."

He's right. That's why he was hired. And there's no question that the Magic were better defensively under Brian Hill.

He was fired, on the other hand, because he would not or could not stray from the formula that has kept him in coaching for more than 30 years. In other words, he was dancing with the one that brung him, even after the personality of his team changed dramatically -- Cato out, Arroyo and Milicic in; Francis out, Ariza (and significant salary cap flexibility) in. The team drafted JJ Redick, one of the best long-range shooters in the history of college basketball. Dwight Howard continued to improve, but Jameer Nelson clearly struggled under the "old" system. Grant Hill and Hedo Turkoglu drifted in and out of the lineup with various injuries. Over the last two years, the team changed. The coach didn't, or at least, the front office didn't think so.

Brian Hill's relentless attention to detail, preparation, and "formula" brought him back to the Magic for a second stint. In the end, it also ended that stint. But again, he did what he was hired to do, and what he's always done. I, for one, hope he's working somewhere again soon.

Moving forward: who's next?

The Magic's coaching search cannot focus on the biggest name, or the guy who will make the most dramatic 'splash.' This team is way beyond making a splash -- in my view, there's as much potential on this current roster as there was on any Magic team since the Shaq-Penny-Nick-Horace-Dennis era. They're already a playoff team, which is why interest in this job will be enormous among coaching circles. This ain't no rebuilding project.

Instead, job one for Otis Smith is finding a guy who will develop the talent and maximize their skills. It's about finding the best fit, not "installing a system." Otis got the players he wanted, with more to come this summer -- now, he's got to find someone who can successfully turn them loose.

And these puppies can run. Howard, Milicic, and Ariza are all turning 22 years old. Dooling, Nelson, and Arroyo can go 94 feet all night. Even Redick is a much better athlete than most people believe. If "style" is important, if the knock on Hill was a "stale" offense (Bob Vander Weide's words), the next guy needs to deplane at Orlando International Airport wearing a singlet and a stopwatch.

Among the big names kicked around -- PJ Carlesimo, Bob Hill (the former Magic assistant who is now openly campaigning for the gig), Larry Brown, Rick Carlisle, Jeff Van Gundy, Stan Van Gundy, and the like -- none strike me as meeting the criteria I've just laid out. All are coaching veterans who will bring their own "systems" to Orlando, and in the cases of Carlesimo, Hill, Brown, and Carlisle, there's a history of flameouts and battles with ownership to consider. From that list, Stan Van Gundy is an intriguing possibility, as he was more than willing to push the ball in Miami (as much as Shaq's knees would allow it). I've always considered him an underrated coach, one whose full talents were difficult to see in the long South Florida shadow of Pat Riley. Still, do any of those guys seem to be an obvious choice?

There are also some dark horses that have floated up, including former Magic players Darrell Armstrong and Brian Shaw -- the hope being that Orlando could mimic the Dallas Mavericks' success with Avery Johnson. But, umm, didn't Orlando try that "recent player with no previous coaching experience" thing with Doc Rivers? Not that Doc was entirely to blame -- they didn't exactly load him up with talent in Orlando during the "Heart & Hustle" days -- but it would be a tough sell to the fans to return to that road.

Phoenix assistant Marc Iavaroni seemingly fits the bill. The Suns play an exciting (and winning) brand of basketball, one that would fit the Magic roster, and in a copycat league, NBA players always pay attention to styles that work. He's the hottest assistant in the league right now, and one way or another, he will be a head coach somewhere next season, most likely having the option of choosing from more than one offer. Iavaroni should get a phone call or two from Otis, at the very least.

Of course, Billy Donovan is the home run ball, a combination of correct style and huge splash, even though nobody knows how he would deal with professional players. What has Magic fans in a tizzy is the fact that Donovan has never said "no," choosing to leave the door cracked for a breathtaking offer from the Magic. While Billy D would be a spectacular hire in terms of marketing, something tells me he's staying in Gainesville. Still, there's no question the Magic should take a shot at him.

Want a dark horse? Reggie Theus. Seriously. In his second year as the head coach at New Mexico State, Theus won 25 games and took the Aggies to the NCAA Tournament for the first time in seven years. He won 42 games in his first two seasons in Las Cruces, with a program that was 6-24 the year before he arrived. He's been an assistant on Rick Pitino's staff (like Billy D), and once reached the American Basketball Association conference finals as the head coach of the Las Vegas Slam. Just this month, he was contacted by the Kings and the Bobcats about their coaching vacancies, telling ESPN's Andy Katz, "I'm an NBA guy. I know I can get it done ... I understand the attitude and what players expect."

And here's the kicker -- not only was he an original member of the Orlando Magic from the expansion days in 1989, he's a former teammate of GM Otis Smith. Think Otis could get Reggie on the same page? Just throwing that out there.

In any case, the days of fitting a square peg into a round hole are over. The next coach must be one who sees the team for what it is, and makes it better. This team is good, possibly very good. With the debate over a new arena in Orlando reaching a fever pitch, this hire could be the most important in franchise history.

Three Shots

Boom:

Brian Hill will not return as the Orlando Magic's head coach, a story reported by several sources and confirmed via e-mail by the Magic on Wednesday night.

Boom:

Tampa Bay Devil Rays rookie Elijah Dukes allegedly threatened the life of his wife, resulting in a restraining order against the 22-year-old outfielder. When asked about the allegations, Dukes told the St. Petersburg Times, "I've got to go. I've got a video game to finish."

And boom:

The Celtics did not win the NBA Draft Lottery. By this time next year, the Portland Trail Blazers will be fondly remembering the stunning rookie season of either Greg Oden or Kevin Durant, while basketball pundits will be pointing to this date as the death of East Coast professional basketball as we know it.

Boom, boom, boom. Three shots in 48 hours. And you thought sports was boring.

In order:

The Brian Hill story was predictable. Say what you will about the way the Magic organization does business -- they try to be human. I've noted on the air and in print that team owner Rich DeVos runs his basketball team the way he runs every other business in his portfolio: as a family enterprise. Mr. DeVos is a decent man, one who rewards loyalty and despises controversy. The inherent nastiness of this basketball business has always been a sticking point with him, sometimes to the detriment of his team's success. I am not at all surprised that the Magic have attempted to engineer a soft landing for Brian Hill. In their view, he deserves it, and when you consider some of the personnel moves made in between Hill's two tenures in Orlando (losing Shaq to the Lakers for less money, trading Penny, trading McGrady, giving up on players like Mike Miller, Ben Wallace, and Matt Harpring), you cannot fault Magic ownership for extending what amounts to an apology to Brian for firing him. However, if the team is indeed serious about winning, the next coach better damn well be a home run. Brian did what he was hired to do. Show me the next step.

Second: On Dukes, what else did anyone expect? This young man is a product of his environment, and while that certainly doesn't excuse any of his alleged behavior, it might explain it. The Devil Rays, who have made dramatic strides under new owner Stuart Sternberg, have compiled a roster of young talent that is the envy of many a Major League Baseball front office -- even if none of those other teams will admit it. Give me a break: Rocco Baldelli, Carl Crawford, Delmon Young, and Dukes in your outfield rotation? Plus B.J. Upton and Scott Kazmir? And the best farm system in baseball, according to Baseball America? If this were Boston, the media adoration would be insufferable. As it stands, it's Tampa Bay, and this story will be beat to death by Friday. The D-Rays have struggled mightily over the years to be taken seriously. Suspending Dukes until this case is resolved will prove to their fans, and their observers, that they mean it. Grant the kid his rights, but do the right thing. Your fans will respect that.

Finally: If ever there was a case to be made for reinstating a true NBA Draft lottery, this is it. Forget the "weighted" formula -- it does nothing but encourage teams to tank, as the Celtics were publicly accused of doing last season. Conspiracy theorists among us will argue that the C's were punished for throwing in the towel, which I would believe, if I thought for a second that the National Basketball Association was clever enough and air-tight enough to pull it off. Fact is, there's no way they could get away with it, not with the 24-7 media attention in today's market. The Celtics got screwed. Call it karma, call it fate, but don't call it a conspiracy. The NBA made one good call this season by removing referee Joey Crawford from the postseason -- now they can make another by giving every non-playoff team an equal chance of winning the draft lottery. Give it up to chance. Your fans, again, will thank you.

Thanks. I feel much better.

The Roots of Passion

Those of us who grew up in college football country -- you may put your hands down now -- might have a hard time understanding the fuss over the Yankees-Red Sox rivalry, the latest chapter of which kicks off (sorry, it's a habit) on Monday with a three-game series in the Bronx.

All I can tell you is this: I pay one-hundred-and-something dollars every season for the MLB Extra Innings package on my cable system because my wife wants to watch Sox games on NESN. Schooled in Andover, Massachusetts, she's a card-carrying member of Red Sox Nation. She even has a personalized Florida license plate that indicates her team of choice. As irrational as you may be about the Gators, Seminoles, Hurricanes, Fighting Irish, Trojans, or Delaware Blue Hens, that's what Mrs. Watson is like when she watches the Red Sox. And if they happen to be playing the Yankees, you better buckle up. My seven-year-old son's first words were "Yankees suck."

Interesting conversation at my house the other night on the topic of college fans versus pro fans in our home state of Florida. To test a theory -- and as we all know, I love theories -- I asked my dad, who is strictly and solely a college guy, to name the Florida pro franchise that has the most passionate, loyal, and demanding fan base.

Without hesitation, he said "the Dolphins," which is the correct answer.

Why?

Because they're the oldest pro franchise in the state. In fact, they are the only pro team in Florida with roots in the 1960's, having entered the old American Football League as an expansion team in '66. The next-oldest pro team -- and arguably the one with the next-most-passionate fan base -- is the Tampa Bay Bucs, who came ten years later. By comparison, the NBA didn't come to Florida until the Miami Heat were born in 1988 (with the Orlando Magic coming one year after that). The NHL's first Florida franchise was the Lightning in '92, followed by the Panthers in '93. 1993 also brought us MLB's Florida Marlins, with the Devil Rays following in '98. In between, we gained a third NFL franchise when the Jacksonville Jaguars launched in 1995. That's nine professional franchises in our state in the four "major" sports, only two of which -- the Dolphins and Bucs -- have been around longer than 20 years. Both of our hockey teams, both of our baseball teams, and one of our football teams didn't exist until the decade of the '90s.

Now consider the Big Three college football programs of Florida, Florida State, and Miami: the Gators celebrated their 100th season of football in 2006; Miami's football program started in 1926 (the same year as the Great Storm that spawned the school's athletic nickname), and the Seminoles date back to 1947. In a state like Florida, where everybody moved here two years ago and everything was built last week, that's practically prehistoric.

And that, I think, is what distinguishes Florida as a college sports market: history. Fandom is passed down from generation to generation, from parent to child. My wife sweats the Red Sox because her parents did; with a line that traces back to the 1901 "Boston Americans," the Sox claim several generations of fans. For that matter, so do the Yankees, Cubs, Cardinals, Dodgers, and dozens of other well-established pro franchises, in all sports.

In Florida, the only generational links are those attached to college programs, with the possible exception of the Dolphins. Hence, those teams are the ones that arouse the deepest passions in fans -- they've not only been a part of our lives, but our parents' lives as well. While some of the younger franchises have enjoyed great success -- an NBA title for the Heat, a Stanley Cup for the Lightning, two World Series trophies for the Marlins, not to mention trips to the Finals for the Panthers and Magic -- nobody has "grown up" with those teams yet. Simply put, not enough time has passed. They're still growing as we speak, and so are their fans. This explains why Super Bowl titles for the Dolphins and Bucs seemingly trump championships in other sports for sheer nostalgia -- fans of those teams can remember the good old days, or, in the Bucs' case, the bad old days.

This theory, by the way, is specific to Florida, a state whose urban history is far shorter than that of the Northeast. What I mean is, even though there are college programs Up North that have been on the field forever -- Rutgers, for example, has been playing baseball and football since the late 1800's -- the "city games" elsewhere have largely been of the professional variety. There's also the matter of winning, which I have described in this space before. By themselves, the St. Louis Cardinals have won more World Series titles (ten) than the total combined championships of all the pro teams in Florida (seven: Dolphins twice, Marlins twice, Bucs, Lightning, Heat). Never mind the Yankees, who have won the Series 26 times. Not only do their pro teams have longer histories than ours, they have longer histories of winning. Conversely, our major college programs aren't just old, they're good: five championships for Hurricane football, two for the Gators, two for Florida State, not to mention Florida's consecutive basketball titles and the dozens of College World Series appearances for all three schools. While Northern schools like Rutgers, Princeton, Yale, and even Syracuse have been competing intercollegiately for decades, no single state can match Florida's body of work in college athletics.

Okay, maybe Texas or California, but you get the point.

Does this mean that pro teams in Florida other than the Dolphins have no shot at developing a generational fan base? Of course not. Like I said, it's simply a matter of time. Winning helps, but longevity is the true essential. Put it this way: the Chicago Cubs have been developing new and exciting ways of either sucking or breaking their fans' hearts since 1870, and yet, Wrigley Field is full every day. The Cubs are a constant. There's nobody in Chicago old enough to remember a time when the Cubs didn't exist. Bringing it home, my two kids will grow up with nine pro teams in Florida, and they will never know anything different. That's how passion forms.

Just ask my wife.

What I Did On My Vacation

I was on vacation last week. This is the view I had every morning for the last five days:

Is that any good?

Lake Tahoe, for those "flatlanders" (the California term for us East Coast dopes) who might be curious, is among the most gorgeous, serene, and inspiring locales in the world. At bare minimum, it's in my top five.

Backstory: the Watson clan flew to Oakland for a family wedding, and we decided to tack a few extra days in the Sierras on the back end. Good call. I cannot recommend the trip any more enthusiastically, although I would suggest a visit during peak ski season, or the high summer season, to get the full experience. As it stood, we were there during the "in-between" season, when all the ski resorts were cleaning up the last vestiges of snow (yes, Florida, there was plenty of white stuff still visible on the mountaintops), and the lake itself was still too brutally cold to actually take a dip. Still, you cannot lose in Tahoe, unless you visit the casinos on the Nevada side. Which I didn't. However, I did spend quite a bit of time at the BackCountry bike shop - slash - coffee house in Tahoe City, which offered excellent iced tea and free Wi-Fi, which allowed me to simultaneously plot the day's bike trip and check e-mail. Tell them I sent you.

While in the Golden State, I read with great interest the local newspaper coverage of the NBA's Warriors, who have become quite the media darling on the Left Coast. From the San Francisco Chronicle, to the Oakland Tribune, to the Sacramento Bee -- a paper that covers its own hometown NBA franchise, for the love of Vlade Divac -- everybody is claiming the Warriors as their own. Such is life when an 8-seed beats a 1-seed. As a wise man once wrote: winning solves everything.

Now, however, it's back to work.

Anyone stay on the couch long enough to watch ABC's halftime feature during the Suns-Spurs game on Saturday night? Rachel Nichols had an excellent piece on the international flavor of this particular playoff series, one that features no fewer than nine players who were born outside the United States -- an NBA record, according to those who produced the piece. Almost all of those foreign-born players were interviewed, including Tony Parker and Boris Diaw, who played with and against each other in their native France and admitted to dreaming of someday squaring off in the NBA. It was great television, honestly.

So immediately after the taped feature concluded, the ABC audience was treated to a highlight of a play from the first half as Dan Patrick segued from halftime into the commercials -- what we in the business call a "bump to break." And after hearing from nine international players during that halftime feature, which player did ABC choose to spotlight as they headed for a commercial?

Raja Bell, who was not interviewed for the feature, but who was, in fact, born outside of the United States. St. Croix, in case you're wondering. Moved to Miami when he was in 8th grade, and later played collegiately at FIU.

Someone in the production truck had to think of that, and have the foresight to plan for it. "Okay, we just spent four minutes of network air time on international players in this series. Gimme a highlight of somebody born outside the US. If I see Amare Stoudemire in this bump, I will fire everyone in this truck."

See? Someone had to think of that. That's why I love television production. That's also why my wife hates to watch TV with me. If you find this minute detail to be useless, you have much in common with Mrs. Watson.

Interesting to note, also, that a full week-plus after I wrote about Brian Hill's shaky future in Orlando, the Magic's head coach is still twisting in the wind, as Mike Bianchi wrote so eloquently in the Orlando Sentinel on Saturday morning. Frankly, I picked up the local papers in San Francisco, Oakland, Sacramento, and Reno each day expecting to read news of a change, but instead, I returned home to find things almost precisely as I left them -- with the exception of a few more shots fired in the ongoing venue war in Central Florida. On that note -- welcome to the party, George.

The new wrinkle in the Magic issue is Billy Donovan, a question that I plan to leave untouched until the team actually has a coaching vacancy, which may or may not happen this summer. Suffice it to say that like Donovan himself, I am intrigued.

One more note before I head back to the office on Monday: my high school rocks. The Trinity Prep baseball team will attempt to match the softball team's state championship early next week, with a state semifinal game against Miami Gulliver Prep on Monday afternoon. Winner plays the winner of the Jacksonville Bolles - Clearwater Central Catholic semifinal on Tuesday night for the entire enchilada. Hey, if Orlando Pine Castle Christian can double up in boys and girls basketball state titles in the same year, plus add a 1A softball title to their mantle -- why not us, why not now?

Go Saints. Glad to be home. See you on TV.

Knowing What We Don't Know

Frankly, I'm surprised it took this long.

Thursday morning, Brian Schmitz of the Orlando Sentinel brought a previously underplayed story to light -- the mounting pressure on Magic head coach Brian Hill. Hill, who returned to Orlando two years ago after an eight-year absence, has been hammered for his substitution patterns, his offensive schemes, his use of Darko Milicic and JJ Redick (or lack thereof), you name it -- and that was before a 4-0 sweep in the first round against Detroit. Until now, however, dissatisfaction with Hill on these points and others had been expressed most consistently via message boards and blogs, including one whose title should remove all doubt of its intent: FireBrianHill.org.

As of Thursday morning, the story has gone MSM (mainstream media, for the uninitiated). It's been laid out for even the casual fan. When team president Bob Vander Weide goes on the record with this:

"People ask me if Brian Hill will be back as our coach. All I can say is that I have no answer for that right now."

and this:

"Style of play is one of the key things.''

...we have officially moved from internet venom to news story.

This past season, when asked about Brian Hill and/or the Magic, I usually offered a stock response (which I actually believe, by the way): "We have no idea what goes on at practice, in meetings, and behind closed doors. There's always more to it than you get from reading the paper or watching the game."

I believe this because, unlike most sportswriters or radio hosts (or TV anchors, for that matter), I've actually worked directly for a franchise. From 1993 through 1997, I was a television producer for the Magic's in-house broadcast department. Even with that level of "access," I was never privy to seeing how hard a certain player worked in practice (or didn't). I couldn't judge a player's attitude away from the floor over the course of an 82-game season. Though I knew how much money each player was making, I wasn't fielding phone calls from his agent, or taking calls from other GM's about potential trades, or charged with solving the NBA's salary cap puzzle under pressure from ownership, so therefore I lacked the information necessary to make an accurate judgement of his "value." Certainly, I knew more than the average fan, and like a fan, I was free to assess the team's play on the floor, but I also knew what I didn't know. I still do, I hope.

Fans don't live it every day like coaches, players, and staff, so they have no option but to form their opinions based on the info they get. And to their credit, that info cannot be disputed. Huge expectations were placed on this Magic team entering the 2006-2007 season, based on their 16-6 finish last year, the ongoing development of Dwight Howard, and the relative weakness of the Eastern Conference. Shoot, I'm as guilty as anyone. As I wrote here in November, "If this team doesn't at least contend for home court in the 2007 NBA Playoffs, this will be a season of wasted opportunity."

The result: a team that struggled mightily in scoring (27th out of 30 teams) and with turnovers (2nd most in the league). A team that bolted out to a 13-4 start, only to limp into the playoffs as the 8th seed. A 4-0 sweep at the hands of the Detroit Pistons. Wasted opportunity, indeed. It should have been better.

As a result, Brian Hill is feeling the heat, because that's what happens to head coaches.

Full disclosure: I know Brian. We don't exchange holiday cards, nor would we call each other for a game of tennis, but we know each other. The common questions I heard this year: Why didn't he play Redick more? Why was Darko underutilized? What determined each man's playing time from game to game? I have no ready answer for any of that. All I know, as stated above, is that there's plenty I don't know.

But based on what I do know, here's my take.

You will never find a coach, or a person, more meticulous than Brian Hill. His attention to detail is unparalleled, from his physical appearance to his plans for games and practices. I cannot imagine that any NBA head coach puts more time and effort into preparation than Brian Hill.

Personality is part of it. We are who we are. Some people thrive on the little things, and Brian is one of them. But I would add this (and here comes the theory): in his heart of hearts, Brian realizes that he is a coaching lifer in a players' league. He never played a minute of NBA basketball himself, and as such, he believes he has to work double-time to earn the respect of his players, as well as the respect of fellow coaches and executives. There's always been a sense of "chip-on-shoulder" with Brian, which is not such a bad thing.

To carry this theory to the next step: when your fallback position is to outwork and outprepare the other guy, you can find trouble on game day, when things inevitably fall apart. It can be insanely frustrating when your players aren't paying as much attention to detail as you are, or when their execution isn't as flawless as yours. I would agree with those who claim that Coach Hill was reluctant to make adjustments when things didn't go according to plan, but I would add that planning is what got him here. You dance with the one that brung you.

Interestingly, former Magic coach Doc Rivers was often criticized for supposedly occupying the opposite end of the spectrum -- all feel, no data. He was ridiculed in Boston this year for using 25 different starting lineups and once promising that he wouldn't create a rotation "just for the sake of having a rotation." As is usually the case, the answer is most likely found somewhere in between.

Brian Hill knows basketball -- probably knows it better than even he believes. The hard part for him (and again, this is just my theory) is trusting his own knowledge and experience enough to let go. Sometimes, flying by the seat of one's pants is not only acceptable, it's necessary. Instincts can carry you a long way, especially when those instincts are grounded in homework. I don't think Brian would be hurt by allowing himself to swing a little closer to the "feel" side.

But again, homework is what got him here. If his job is indeed on the line, does he agree to loosen things up and let the kids play, or does he stick with the philosophy that kept him in the league in the first place? What would you do? This entire conversation, by the way, is predicated on the notion that a coaching change will solve all of the Magic's problems, which is laughably inaccurate -- but the players aren't the ones under the gun in the newspaper this morning. And besides, that's another blog entirely.

I've already fielded phone calls today from friends in the media who have "sources" at the Magic who indicate that a shakeup is on the way. These "sources" sound awfully sketchy to me, but you never know. Maybe a coaching change is imminent. Maybe more than just a coaching change. Perhaps the team is planning to make a dramatic statement, in one form or another, that proves they're serious about winning -- and with the arena deal percolating in Orlando, now would admittedly be an excellent time to make a splash. With that in mind -- and the team's future in central Florida potentially hanging in the balance -- this will be a crucial off-season for the Magic, perhaps the most important in team history.

Regardless of what you hear or read in the days and weeks to come regarding coaching, players, staff, or arenas, remember this: there's a lot that we don't know. Believe me, I know.