It’s truly a special event tomorrow in Kentucky, home of the sport, for the sport of kings.

The last time we had a Triple Crown winner, 1987, an event like this wasn’t on the calendar. Affirmed won the Derby, the Preakness at Pimlioc, and the Belmont Stakes, the 3-great races on the calendar, and that was the season, completed.

Now we have Breeders Cup Weekend, and this weekend it is back at Keenland, and for the first time, we have a horse going for the “Grand Slam”, winning a fourth event on horse racing’s illustrious card.

The Breeders Cup has grown by leaps and bounds in its two decades of existence. It is now a 13-horse race weekend, with big money prizes, totalling 26M in all. And the Breeders Cup Classic highlites the weekend Saturday afternoon, as American Pharoah goes for the imagined “Grand Slam”.

This has been some season for Bob Baffert’s great horse. Power victories in each of the crown jewel races. Yes the winning streak was snapped at Saratoga in the prestigious Travers Stakes. Maybe two cross country trips in a five week span, to Belmont and then upstate, took too much out of Pharoah. Maybe the wear and tear of the three jewel races, capped by the mile and a half at Belmont, took its toll.

But now well-rested, this 10-horse field is indeed loaded, but all the attention is on this special thoroughbred.

Keen Ice, who put on the power run to win at Saratoga is in the field.

Beholder, last seen beating Zenyatta at the Pacific Classic in Delmar a year ago, is here too.

So is the Belmont 2014-winner Tonalist.

This shapes up as a shootout and the greatest way to end as fascinating a horse racing campaign as we have ever had.

Pharoah capping off a spectacular individual season. Beholder having won stakes races 4-years in a row. And Tonalist and Keen Ice showing their explosive abilities.

We have the Grand Slam in Tennis, the Grand Slam in Golf, and how we truly have a Grand Slam event in horse racing.

“Down the stretch they come” capping off a really great 2015-horse racing season.

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It makes you just ache to read about it all over again, though I credit the author with doing a good job.
Jim Trotter, the former Union-Tribune NFL writer, who has found a special niche at ESPN, has just released his book on the life and tragedy that was Junior Seau.
A look at the player, the person, the charities, the escapades, the camradrie, the family, and the end result.
I can close my eyes and see Seau making plays all over the field. I hear the ferocity of the hits. I see the explosiveness of the runs to get to the ball carrier. I remember the emotion on the field, in the huddle, and on the sidelines.
Coaches talk about his love of all things football, his dedication to his craft, and the fun he enjoyed off the field.
The dark side was there, as a player, and obviously in post football life. We knew about his womanizing, his drinking, his gambling. But what was one going to do about it? It was his life, his decisions. Virtually everyone, from the media, to the NFL, to his football and personal family, and the police, always seemed to look the other way. I guess we will carry some guilt about that.
We didn’t know about the deterioration of his mental health, towards the end of his career, and then in his post-football life. The pain he suffered from, and the pain he inflicted on his family, wife-ex-wife Gina, and the kids.
It is evident he went ‘outside the circle’ of team doctors to get treatments for concussions. Clubs say they never knew. Someone with a medical background knew, for he was treated by others than just the Chargers-Dolphins and Patriots doctors.
The family had to know, but seemed helpless to step forward and get him help.
His inner circle of friends had to know, but did little or nothing, except to party with him, take advantage of him.
Jim Trotter has done a good job telling the across-the-board story, sad as it is, painful as it was. .
I read it and it flashbacked the book written just a couple of years ago by Jane Levy, a New York Times writer, about the deterioration of our boyhood hero, Mickey Mantle. A sad expose of his life falling into the abyss where his lifestyle ended his life.
At first I felt ‘tell all’ books were a betrayal. But maybe something good comes out of something so sad.
I guess we have to read the “Life and Death of a Football Icon”, the Seau book, much like we should probably read “The Last Boy”, the revelations about Mantle..
When the games are over, when the cheering stops, your favorite player has to go home and deal with the realities of life, injuries, family issues, money, abuses and addictions. .
You loved him on game-day, he surely stirred your football emotions. Now the book stirs up a different type of emotion, the Seau suicide and the whys and wherefores.
Jim Trotter brings it all back into focus.
I said it the day he died, and I believe it still this morning. Football was Junior Seau’s life. Football took Junior Seau’s life. And we ache in our heart because of it.

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The World Series is upon us, 9-innings and more of electricity, tension, controversy, big plays. Great to watch.
But we have to put up with lots of ‘extras’, pregame shows, in-game analysis, post game carnage.
How much is too much on the set for a pregame show? Too much.
A lead anchor and four or five more analysts. Some contribute great, like the always smiling and interesting slugger Frank Thomas, and the informative well spoken Eric Karros.

Some don’t, like Pedro Martinez mumbling his way thru his comments. Some are refreshing like reporter-journalists like Tim Kurkjian, Ken Rosenthal or Tom Verducci.
And then there are those whom you question about their credibility, viability, hired probably just for their visibility.
Fox TV has now decided the world needs to hear more from the lifetime chronic liar, who is Pete Rose. Back in the day, he knew baseball. Now he knows card shows and the Home Shoppers Channel, and wishful meetings with the Commissioner seeking reinstatement.
He comes off as class clown now, with little to add to the show. There he is in his bow tie and his black-dyed hair, trying to sound hip. It’s become a turnoff.
Add to that the arrival of Alex Rodriguez, a great talent, a lifetime cheat, and an intelligent addition. For all he has been on the field, home-run hitter, diva in the clubhouse, outright liar, he is good on television. But I have a hard time stomaching all the intellect, because I know it is couched by what a phony he was as a player-person.
I guess I can ask, what’s next, the ultimate boorish Barry Bonds?
The TV networks are putting all the other bad guys on the set trying to draw ratings. I guess you figure you must appeal to the lowest common denominator of fans, they’ll watch, and that counts for lots in the advertising money making world of television, whether what’s coming out of the set is quality vs quantity..
But what do you do to your product when you overload your shows with too many opinions, too many hucksters, pranksters or slugs?
I love the Fall Classic and the history of it. I just don’t like the over analysis, and a glut of bad citizens be brought on board to tell me about the teams and the games and the plays.
The networks seem content to ruin a good thing.

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Oh if the calendar could talk, could it tell you some stories.

Tonite, the tradition continues, the one that started in 1903, and is renewed this evening, the World Series.

If you love baseball, you’ll know what late October is all about. Crispness in the fall afternoon, a chill at night underneath the lights, the energy, the electricity, the bunting hanging around the stadium, and the buzz everywhere.

Yes it’s the Mets and the Royals this evening, but it has been so much for such a long time in the past.

From the Bronx Bombers, the Bambino, to the Yankee Clipper, and the M&M Boys, the Boss and the Evil Empire and everything that is New York Yankees baseball.

It’s Connie Mack and his Million Dollar infield with the Old Philadelphia A’s. It was the Gas House Gang, D’em Bums the Dodgers, the Big Red Machine and the Gas House Gang.

It was the 1944-Browns, the Fighting A’s, the Amazing Mets, and Spahn and Sain and Pray for Rain. It’s the Curse of the Billy Goat, and Coogan’s Bluff, the Lumber Company, the Red Sox Nation, the Baby Birds and so many more..

The Fall Classic is a special game, a big play, something that forever stands out. You mention a name, you close your eyes, and you remember.

Don Larson’s perfect game in the Yankees-win over the Dodgers in ’56. Kirk Gibson’s home run trot on one leg for the Dodgers over the A’s.

Bill Mazeroski’s Pirates bomb at old Forbes Field. Carlton Fish wrapping one around the Fenway Park foul pole.

Willie Mays breaking the Indians heart, saving the Giants day, with that over-the-shoulder catch at the Polo Grounds.

Reggie Jackson’s 3-bombs vs the Dodgers, thereby claiming the term ‘Mr. October’. Joe Carter and his Toronto Blue Jays home run trot.

Bill Buckner’s thru the wickets ground ball error for Boston. Enos ‘Country’ Slaughter running thru stop signs to score for the Cardinals.

The Black Sox Scandal and 8-Men Out.

It’s as good as it gets. Baseball on Radio, Games on TV.

Tonight gives us big plays, big replays, big hits, big time pitching.

The best part of baseball is its history, and tonight we watch the Mets and Royals, and remember way-back-when.

The World Series, welcome back old friend.

It was ugly, it was awful, it was dispiriting, the horror-show performance put on by the Chargers in the Sunday loss to the Oakland Raiders.
The Raiders picked a street fight, and dragged the Chargers into the alley. Before you knew it, it was a (37-6) Oakland lead in San Diego’s yard, amidst screaming Raiders fans and booing Bolts fans.
I wonder what Dean Spanos and Mark Fabiani thought as they sat in their luxurious skybox, watching the pitiful performance?
I wonder what they felt, when the Stadium colors became Silver and Black, and the home game became a road game for their own team.
They created this ugly atmosphere. They spit in the face of the mayor and the civic leaders by refusing to sit and try to negotiate a financial deal on a new stadium. They poured gasoline on the smoldering emotions in the community with the Friday confirmation they will file to move to LA in January.
As for the football people, lay this at the front door of Tom Telesco and John Spanos. You want to be the VPs of player acquisitions, then this roster is on you.
Telesco came from Indianapolis. Do you remember what the Colts were known for? Peyton Manning and a soft team. The body in the alley outside the Stadium yesterday was Philip Rivers and the soft roster around him.
Mike McCoy has problems, not just his condescending attitude towards the media and fans, it’s his inability to admit his mistakes. Whether it is play calling, or the benching of explosive Melvin Gordon, when they need his burst, lots of bad issues here.
He must admit also, John Pagano’s defense does not work. Not the blitz package, not the ‘3-4’ and it may be time to remove him to try and salvage the season. Mike Nolan is on the staff with a track record, and this cannot go on indefinitely.
Who would have thought we’d ever be talking about a Philip Rivers team in last place? Who would have thought, there’d be more wearing enemy colors, than Power Blue in your stadium?
Dean Spanos owes this Mayor and apology. They owe the fans the same for what they’ve allowed this franchise to become. How insulting to say your filing to go to LA.
The only thing they get high ratings for are for ruining the relationships they had in San Diego, with the fans, and maybe next with the business community.
It was a bad day on the field, and the implications about what is happening off the field make it even worse.
This is all on Dean Spanos, his son, Tom Telesco and Mike McCoy. They’re in last place too…

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