A Cold Winter Looming in Syracuse

As the long-awaited college hoops season dawns in upstate New York, it's the much-maligned football program that is posting the big headlines in the local Post-Standard today.

Athletic Director Darryl Gross has finally made the announcement that everyone was expecting, and possibly even hoping for. Head coach Greg Robinson has been relieved of his duties, effective at the conclusion of this, his fourth season at the helm. In Gross' words, he "made the decision to move our football program in a new direction." It's really irrelevant, but the announcement comes following the Saturday loss to Connecticut on Senior Day, the last home game of the season. It's irrelevant because there was nothing noteworthy about that game in particular; it was just another poor performance in a long line of poor performances for this team. That latest loss puts Robinson's record at a laughable 9-36 in his three-plus years with the Orange, which actually sounds respectable when you consider the 3-24 record he has tallied in the Big East. I shudder when I see that he was also responsible for the only two 10-loss seasons in Syracuse history. That's since 1889, boys and girls.

To be fair to G-Rob, the collapse of the football program over the past decade is about 10% his fault. The lion's share of the blame has to go to former coach Paul Pasqualoni, who ran the once-proud program into the ground prior to his departure. At least A.D. Gross isn't making the same mistakes as his predecessor. The A.D. spot was long-held by the old codger, Jake Crouthamel, and it was his decision to leave Pasqualoni in power until 2005 -- about five years too long in the minds of the Orange nation. Let's go back there for a second, because the story of Coach P. is where this whole novel begins. When Pasqualoni first took office in 1991, he initially found good success, piggybacking on the respect and recruiting expertise of the legendary Dick MacPherson, whom he replaced. But once that recruiting cow had given all her milk, Pasqualoni had nothing left to fall back on, and we all watched as he spiraled our beloved team into misery. He was in tight with Crouthamel though, and even the outcry of fury from the fans wasn't enough to get Pasqualoni a pink slip until 2005, when Gross took over.

Enter Greg Robinson five years too late, and he inherited a coaching situation that was impossible to overcome. In the physical universe we occupy, there is no human being who could have come into the Dome and turned things around in five years post-Pasqualoni. And Robinson gave a hell of an effort. There were times -- rare times, but times -- when Syracuse has actually looked like a Division I football team this year. Try as they might though, they just have yet to escape the clutches of Pasqualoni Syndrome.

"We've been very fair to coach Robinson," Gross said. "Everyone wanted the guy's head last year. I said I didn't want Syracuse to become one of those three-years-and-out schools. I said, 'Let's calm down and we'll get the first pick of the draft (of coaching candidates) next year.' That's where we are."

When asked his thoughts on the comments, Robinson didn't mince words: "Quite frankly, there hasn't been the progress there needs to be."

The recent downturn in success has had a big impact on the University and the community as a whole. In his first 21 home games at the Dome, the building averaged more than 10,000 empty seats per game. In 2006, the football team lost money for the first time since 1995. Average attendance the following year fell to a 21-year low, punctuated by a measly crowd of less than 28,000 that turned up for the September 2007 contest with Pittsburgh -- the smallest Carrier Dome crowd since I was two years old.

Now more than ever, the Syracuse football program finds itself at a crossroads. When Robinson came in, he brought with him an offensive scheme that was unfamiliar to the players and fans. For as long as I can remember, the 'Cuse has run an option offense, anchored by mobile quarterbacks (Marvin Graves, Donovan McNabb), and strong-blocking, soft-handed fullbacks (Daryl Johnston, Rob Konrad). Robinson erased that scheme and installed a spread, west-coast style of offense. He recruited pocket passers and nifty running backs, and he looked to create a wide-open, quick striking attack. It was a noble idea that may have worked better if not for the state of the union when he took over.

Now it's back to the drawing board though, as the search is on for a candidate whose offensive scheme will mesh with both the traditions and the present state of Syracuse football. The three names that seem to be atop the list are Connecticut's Randy Edsall, East Carolina's Skip Holtz, and former Oakland Raiders top guy Lane Kiffen. Of those, Edsall seems to make the most sense. He is a graduate of Syracuse, where he played quarterback back in the glory days of the Orangemen. After he graduated, he was a long-time assistant coach under Dick MacPherson and Frank Maloney before him. Edsall says he is "very interested" in the opportunity to coach his alma mater, and my money says that he will be the next Syracuse football head coach. We can only hope that the next guy, whoever he is, understands the proud traditions of Orange football, and will find some success in restoring greatness to our once-lofty program.

There is a fantastic summation of Robinson's career in audio slideshow form here. And you can see his poorly-filmed press conference below, if you're still interested:

SU head football coach Greg Robinson dismissal press conference

An Unexpected Change of Plans

This is the most won-der-ful time of the year. Last night, I finally donned my sacred Rod Brind'Amour jersey and headed out the door for my first Hurricanes game of the season. I've been traveling a bunch lately, and last night was the first night that both the 'Canes and myself were at home in this young season, so I decided I was well overdue for a BBQ sandwich, a hockey game, and of course the Storm Squad.

I stopped at Chris' house first, since he lives comparatively close to the RBC Center. I managed to keep his maniacal dogs from ripping my jersey to shreds long enough to pound a beer and head out the door just about an hour before game time. The best thing about driving to 'Canes games is listening to the pregame show on 99.9 and getting pumped up. Mike Maniscalco was joined by the television voice of the Hurricanes, the esteemed John Forslund, and they were talking X's and O's, going on about how the team really needs to come out with a passionate effort tonight to get back on the winning track. The home team was playing the rival Washington Capitals, and last night figured to be payback for a tough loss they handed us up in D.C. last week.

That damn green Camry is pulling out, isn't it? What the hell is he (slam on brakes) thinking, right in the middle of the road? I don't think I -- !!!WHAM!!!

Just that quick, I had come to an abrubt unscheduled stop amidst a cloud of tire and engine smoke, and I was now staring out my front winshield at the remnants of what used to be my Civic's front end. Some of it was now neatly crammed into the left-front corner of the aforementioned Camry. It wasn't my fault.

I had been driving down Lynn Road in Raleigh, going about my business in the left straight lane. There was a car directly on my right side, and he or she was slowing to make a right turn at the upcoming side street. Our villain was on the side street to my right, trying to pull out and make a left on Lynn. Unfortunately, he only saw the turning car and failed to notice that I was in the next lane over, buzzing along merrily at 50 MPH. So he just pulled on out and then inexplicably came to a stop directly in front of me. I left about 75 feet of skid marks, but it was to no avail as I slammed into his front end at somewhere between 25-30 MPH. I can kind of understand the situation he was in, because it is a tricky one. But, that's the spot where I would think a competent driver would exercise even more caution and awareness. Like me... I will never cause an accident like that, because I know enough to be aware for that kind of shit. I know enough to take care on the other side too, to watch for people pulling out in that spot. I was completely alert, and as soon as he entered my field of vision, I was hard on the brakes immediately.

So there I sat, waiting patiently for the police to show up. And waiting. When I hit the guy, I was immediately calm, but admittedly a little shaken up. I did a quick damage assessment to make sure all of my extremities were still attached and functional, and got out to check on the other guy calmly. As the minutes ticked by though, the shake-up wore off, and I started to steam pretty good. I just wanted the cops to get there so I could go home. The ironic thing is that we were in an area that is normally teeming with law enforcement night and day, and it's a spot where I always watch my speed. Now though, when I needed one, the cops were nowhere to be found. In the middle of Raleigh.

I know time always goes slower in these situations, but it was at least 35 minutes of standing precariously in the road before anyone showed up. My car would start, but the transmission fluid was all over the pavement, so I couldn't move it. From what I understand, transmission fluid works best when it's actually inside the transmission. Finally, a set of blue lights came around the corner, and Officer Friendly had arrived to save the day. Or something like that. He ended up giving the other driver a ticket for "Failure to See," and sent him on his way with what will certainly be a $25 fine. And of course, his car was almost unscathed (see photo). I watched him drive away while a big-ass wrecker was winching my poor car up onto the flatbed.

I'm not sure if my ride is going to be totaled or not. My '01 Civic was worth about $7,000, and I think the damage will come pretty close to that number. It needs more than body work; there's a good bit of damage to the engine too. Honestly, it would probably be best if it were totaled. Which means I may never see that car again.

I loved that car.

P.S. I made it back to Chris' at 7:08pm, right as they were dropping the puck at the RBC Center. The 'Canes got routed 5-1 by the Caps, so it was apparently set up to be a disappointing night for me, whether I made it to the game or not. I'm still steaming.

LAPT San Jose

Today's blog comes to you from somewhere over the Gulf of Mexico, live from the sixth row of a shiny new Continental Airlines 737-800. I am on my way back home from San Jose, Costa Rica, this week's host for the PokerStars.net Latin American Poker Tour. It was the first event of LAPT Season 2, and the second trip the series has made to San Jose.

With a buyin of $3,500, Day 1 saw a field of 219 runners vying for the title, and play progressed at an astoundingly fast pace. The structure was nice and slow for the players, giving them 10,000 starting chips with 60-minute levels, starting at 25/50. By the end of Level 10 though, just 38 players remained to come back for Day 2. Among the notables who fell victim to Day 1 were Victor Ramdin, Alex and Humberto Brenes, Alexandre Gomes, Andre Akkari, Maria “Maridu” Mayrinck, Eddy Sabat, and Liv Boeree.

Rob Woodcock was the overnight chip leader, bagging up more than 181,000 at the conclusion of play. Both he and the second-place stack of Ryan Fee would make it to the final table. The story I was following most closely, though, was that of Carter Gill (right). Gill was struggling to start the day, down to his last 2,800 chips early on with the blinds at 150/300. There was a 10-minute break approaching, and Gill was trying to donate his chips so he didn't have to come back after break. He failed in that effort though, managing to rally back just shy of 70,000 by night's end, a slightly-above-average stack.

Day 2 dawned with those 38 players battling it out at a good clip once again. It took just about eight hours of play to whittle the field down to the final eight, with play slowing noticeably for the last three hours or so. Jon “apestyles” Van Fleet was one of the in-the-money finishers, notching a 17th place cash. Carter Gill busted out in 14th spot, and he was pretty dejected as he walked straight through the door without bothering to stop by the payout desk on his way out of the room.

Another great story I was keeping an eye on during Day 2 was that of the Sterns – Costa Rica's own Max and Maria. The two of them are an adorable older couple, and they are accomplished poker players as well. In 1997, they both managed to win WSOP bracelets, making them one of only two husband-wife duos who both have the gold hardware (the other being Harry and Jeri Thomas). The Sterns have done a great deal for poker in Latin America during the last decade, and the fruits of their efforts are evident with the recent growth of the game in their part of the world. Maria is referred to as the “Godmother of Latin American Poker,” and she is universally adored and respected in those parts. Hubby Max would finish up just short of the money, while Maria would take her chips all the way to the final table.

After working down to our final eight, play concluded for the night. This time, it was young gun Ryan Fee who racked up the most chips, dumping 481,000 of them into the barely-big-enough thick plastic bag. Fee is a twenty-year-old high-stakes heads-up cash player, but he showed he is no slouch in tournament play either. He was second in chips to start Day 2, and he found himself on top of the heap going into the final table. Fee is consistently the most-talkative person at his table, and he was even playing to the crowd with his boisterous sense of hunor during the final two days. On his bio sheet, he lists his occupation as “Baller”, if that tells you anything. Either way, there's no denying his skill on the felt. With Fee in the lead, here's the way the final table set up:

Clockwise, from top-left:
Andrew Chen – 313,000
Jeff Petronack – 122,500
Jesus Bertoli – 265,500
Joel Micka – 336,500
Maria Stern – 151,500
Claus Rasmussen – 254,000
Ryan Fee – 481,000
Brent Sheirbon – 186,500

Before the final table began, there was a press conference with the remaining eight players, covering topics from the development of poker in Latin America to the election in the United States. The Q&A lasted about 45 minutes, and then it was game on. Play progressed pretty deliberately for the first hour, as the players tried to get a feel for each other and the table in general. In fact, there wasn't a flop for about the first 20 minutes of the day. "Just so you guys know," said Tournament Director Mike Ward to the table, "We still play this game with community cards..."

Moving into the second level of play, it was Maria Stern (left) who began to get things rolling. She was working with a short stack, and she had shipped it all in a few times without getting action, just managing to keep her head above water. Finally, with 116,000 chips, she moved in once again, this time holding {Kh} {Jh}. The two players to her left folded, but Jeff Petronack looked down at his cards, smiled, and quickly turned them face-up with a confident, “I call.” Petronack tabled {Qc} {Qh}, and Stern could not improve. The crowd favorite made her exit in 8th place, drawing a heartfelt standing ovation from the spectators and media. She is absolutely adorable.

As if someone had flipped a switch, the pace of the tournament picked up dramatically following her elimination. The average stack was still more than 40 big blinds, but play progressed as if everyone was getting short. Chips began flying around the table, and it would be just about two hours from this point until the tournament ended. Next to exit was Claus Rasmussen, who also picked a spot to make a move with the short stack. He pushed in with {Qd} {7d}, only to run into the {Kh} {Ks} of Joel Micka. Good game, Claus.

The most dramatic hand of the tournament came with six players left. After a preflop raising war, Jeff Petronack ended up all in for 297,000, and he was called down by Ryan Fee, who had his man well covered. The hands were turned up with Petronack showing {Ad} {Kh}, and Fee tabling {As} {Ks}. The two men shook hands and complimented each other's cards, seemingly poised for a chop.

It was not meant to be for Petronack though, as the miracle flop rolled out {Js} {8s} {Ts}, giving Fee the ace-high flush right off the bat. It wasn't over yet, though; the money card, the {Qs} hit the turn, giving Fee the spade Royal Flush! Maybe even more incredibly, the {9s} filled out the community cards, putting a straight flush on board while giving Fee the immortal nuts with the top seven cards in the deck! Despite making that straight flush, Jeff Petronack was eliminated in 6th place.

It was at that moment that everyone knew Ryan Fee simply could not lose. Andrew Chen became his next victim when Chen moved in with {Qc} {Qh}. Fee put him to the test, making the call with {8c} {8h}. The flop was {4h} {5c} {6c}, and Chen backed away from the table, shaking his head. He and everybody in the room knew what was coming. Sure enough, the {7d} peeled off on fourth street, giving Fee his straight. The {6s} on the river was the end of Chen, and he exited in 5th place. As if he weren't running good enough, Fee next targeted Jesus Bertoli, another local crowd favorite. Bertoli made his stand with {Ad} {3s}, and Fee quickly called with {Ks} {Qs} for only a fraction of his stack. The flop was {8d} {Kd} {Qh}, and Chen could do nothing to slow down Fee, making his exit in 4th place. Down to the final three, the chip counts looked like this:

Ryan Fee – 1,428,000
Joel Micka – 582,000
Brent Sheirbon – 122,000





Sheirbon was out in 3rd place when his {Qd} {Td} lost a race to Micka's {2h} {2c}, and it was quickly heads up for the title. The players talked business for a few minutes, orchestrating a near-even chop. Both Fee and Micka (left) consider themselves heads-up specialists, and they played quickly and decisively. There wasn't a single flop for about the first 20 hands of heads-up play, with the two men trading raises and reraises. Micka, who plays online as "JMPRODIGY", had managed to climb back nearly even before getting involved in the first (and last) big confrontation of heads-up play. He and Fee raised each other until all of the chips were in the middle preflop, Fee holding {As} {Th} and Micka racing with {4s} {4c}. The first four cards off the deck were pretty safe for the underpair, coming out {Ks} {7c} {Qc} {8h}. Once again though, nobody was shocked when the {Ah} ripped off on the river, giving the massive pot and the title to Ryan Fee. With a shiny glass trophy in his possession, Fee was handed the obligitory oversized check for more than a quarter-million dollars.

At the risk of blaspheming my beloved UltimateBet, PokerStars puts on fantastic events all over the world, and this one was no exception. The LAPT staff, led by TD Mike Ward, is friendly and knowledgeable, if a little casual on the floor. There were elaborate, open-bar parties to open and close the event, and the entire hotel was decked out in PokerStars regalia. It was torture for a UB guy like myself, but I must admit, PokerStars knows how to put on a tournament. If you spend any time playing on that site, I would highly recommend that you try to satellite into some of the major tournaments that they run. Among them are the Asia Pacific Poker Tour, the European Poker Tour, and this LAPT which is in its second season.

Latin America as a whole is an area that is primed for major tournament poker. The first season of the LAPT was a great success last year, capped off by a fantastic finale in Punta del Este, Uruguay. There were three events in the first season which will double to six this time around. Unfortunately, the 219 players who played in San Jose this past week represents a sharp decline from the 397 who entered last year, but that doesn't necessarily correlate to the level of interest poker is drawing in Central and South America. Throughout the event, there was an enthusiastic and energetic contingent of railbirds, and the tournament was dominated by local and semi-local players.

The drop-off in numbers may be due to a saturation in major tournaments at this moment. Two big series at the Bellagio and the latest installment of the Venetian DSE are joining the WSOP Main Event final table as big draws to Las Vegas. Add to that an EPT event in Budapest that just finished, and the APPT stops in Manila and Sydney that are upcoming, and there may just be too many events for any of them to draw impressive numbers right now. Not to mention the economic situation in the USA and the rising cost of travel, which create the recipe for an unimpressive turnout. That being said, poker is alive and well in Latin America, and I fully expect the LAPT to have continued success for a long time coming.

You can check out my full live update blog from this event right here on PokerNews, if you're so inclined.

Do You Know the Way?

Houston, Texas is where I find myself this morning, en route once again to Latin America. This time I stop short in San Jose, Costa Rica, a comparative cakewalk of an international flight. My mission on this trip is the same as it was the last time I flew in this direction. I'm covering a PokerStars.net LAPT event, as the new season kicks off in Central America. The crowd in Uruguay was fantastic to close out last season, and all signs indicate this year will be even more successful and wider-reaching in its efforts. I expect to see a lot of Stars' own pros, and a number of other recognizable faces in the field this week.

They just announced that all passengers on this flight have to check in and show their boarding documents at the airline counter right next to the gate before boarding. Unusual. You should see the line. I think I'll keep grinding the cash tables for a few more minutes, taking full advantage of this lovely free wi-fi, courtesy of the Bush Intercontinental Airport.

See you on the ground in San Jose.