| | | The boombox is on top of The Cooler.
|  | | After 22 NHL seasons, Ray Bourque's Cup finally runneth over. |
The CD is loaded. All I need to make this Monday morning under the fluorescents perfect is to hit "Play."
So, I hit "Play." And then I sit back and hear the sweet sounds of America's poet laureate, Mr. Johnny Cash.
I fell into a burning ring of fire
I went down, down, down/And the flames went higher
Oh, those horns. Oh, that voice.
Oh, my newfound respect for the Stanley Cup playoffs.
True story. It's June, right? Time for 12-year-olds to be playing Little League. Time for baseball's standings to mean something. Time for Alice Cooper's "School's Out! For Summer!" to echo through the land.
And yet, I found myself getting all goosebumpy and all teary -- yeah, I'll admit it -- over a damn hockey game!
Now, I'm Cali all the way. Born and raised in marijuana-friendly Marin County, schooled in the basketball heaven that is UCLA, working for a living in the fog-shrouded City by the Bay, and, against all odds, I was down with Ray Bourque and the Avs on Saturday night.
Understand, I've always followed the mantra put forth by fellow ESPN writer and thought guru Tim Keown, who probably doesn't even remember his epic take on today's NHL a while back. Keown theorized about whether Sun Belt hockey should be a reality, and came up with this gem, more or less paraphrased: "If you wonder whether or not you should be a hockey fan, go outside your house on New Year's Day and turn on the garden hose. Leave it on for an hour. If you come back, and it's still liquid, you should not be a hockey fan."
Words to live by.
|  | | Alex Tanguay, left, and Joe Sakic made sweet music on -- and off -- the ice. |
So it's June, and there is no real reason hockey should be taking up space in the sports section, except it's Bourque and it's major gooseflesh time, and it's the Avs-Devils, and it's Game 7, and a guy like me can finally, fully understand that in all of North American sports, there is not a whole lot like a Game 7 in the Stanley Cup Finals.
And then the Avs won. And then Bourque held it high. And then I got all "Field of Dreams" about the whole thing.
And then I saw the locker-room scene.
Which brings us back to Cash.
Someone touched by genius, someone who understands cool, someone with the muse on his shoulder cued up "Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash and blasted it so
that it filled the background of the winning locker room.
Suddenly, I didn't care what Joe Sakic had to say. Suddenly, I didn't give a flying rat what Alex Tanguay did.
Suddenly, all I knew was that the coolest sporting event going was capped by the coolest sports guy winning and the coolest winning song ever filling up the air.
"Ring of Fire" by Johnny Cash.
What could have been better? Some Otis Redding? Some Tower of Power? Some Al Green? Maybe.
But when you think about it, for just one precious moment in American sports, all was right. Bourque held the Cup. Cash filled the air. There were no
halftime shows, no blasts of Gary Glitter.
Just sports and music. And enough inspiration for me to bring that CD boombox to The Cooler, crank it up loud enough to tick off my boss, and to drink Meister Brau out of my aluminum foil faux-Cup long enough to warrant a firing.
So for you, Johnny -- (and like Cusack in "High Fidelity," our all-time favorite book is "Cash: The Autobiography," by Johnny Cash) -- and for you, Ray, this List of Five is dedicated:
1. Capriati: Italian for "Comeback Player of the Decade"
|  | | Jennifer Capriati continued her amazing comeback with another Grand Slam victory. |
The Cooler does not rely upon my own brainpower. If it did, it would be more unreadable than it is. That said, this column's humor guru buddy T.C. eyed the French Open finals and tossed out, between beer slurps: "Jenny Capriati: The Dana Plato of women's tennis." Funny stuff, 'cept Plato never made it to the Callback of Life the way our girl Jenny did.
Faced with every reason in the world to become Darryl Strawberry, Capriati instead busted her butt, slid her shoes all over some Paris clay, didn't blink when an 18-year-old Belgian wanted the old woman to relinquish the stage and became a champion.
Dana Plato? Funny stuff. Except today at the Cooler, we'll say Capriati deserves as big a slug off the Dixie as our guy Ray Bourque. Awesome.
2. The Lakes: What, you didn't have Robert Horry in your scoring pool?
As you devoted readers of The Cooler know -- and really, thanks, Mom and Dad, for your continued reading -- we believed that Philly was a Phraud, that Kobe and Shaq's only concern was whether to spend the summer in the Bahamas or in the Caribbean. But Friday night, pounding pints of Guinness down at Martin Mack's on Haight Street, I had a revelation: The Sixers are the shiznit! The team defense! The heart of Secretariat! The Answer, answering all the time!
|  | | When the Diesel fouled out, Robert Horry, center, took over and carried the Lakers to a Game 3 victory. |
Then I watched Game 3. Shaq fouled out, and Philly couldn't deliver. Instead, that flashback to the days when Hakeem was a factor, Robert Horry, carried the Lakes to a critical victory. I'm just hoping Philly can win one more and ensure we get a return to Jack courtside at Staples. I could do with another shot of Dyan Cannon and Iron Mike, chillin' courtside.
3. Petey Might Be Hurt
There's talk Tiger Woods is the most dominant athlete in the history of sports. The Cooler considers Pedro Martinez on the hill, and realizes this: If Tiger's golf game was translated to pitching, he'd merely be Curt Schilling, or Randy Johnson, or Greg Maddux. Pedro? It'd take Tiger plus Hogan plus Sarazen to equal the real Dominican Dandy.
That's why the news of his potential injury after the Phillies game Saturday is so sad. The guy's ERA is now just over 2.00 -- for the first time since '99! As our
pal Jason Giambi often says, shaking his head humorously: "Petey's just a cartoon character." Here's to a speedy recovery.
4. Cubs win! Cubs win!
Idle query: Why hasn't The Cooler embraced the Chicago Cubs much earlier?
Idle answer: Because The Cooler is Clueless.
|  | | Matt Stairs and the Cubbies in contention? Save us a barstool in Wrigleyville. |
So, the Sox took two of three in the big weekend showdown in the best drinking city west of Manhattan. So what? We've been meaning to say this for some time: The idea of Matty Stairs on a pennant-contender in Wrigley is about as good as ball gets. Stairs is one of baseball's great Regular Guys, probably the big-leaguer Most
Accessible to Pound Beer With.
The idea of Stairsy in contention into the summer is so exciting, it almost makes us want to hop a United bird to O'Hare, take a cab straight to Wrigleyville, and take up residence on a barstool at Murphy's Bleachers -- where Stairsy would eventually enter for a postgame libation. Here's to Anti-La Russa and pro-Cubs vibes for the summer!
5. Johnny, we hardly knew ye
Understand, we're all about UCLA at The Cooler. Also understand, we appreciate men who took life the way it was meant to be taken: with a laugh.
So, it's a doff of the bucket hat for John McKay, leader of Trojans and Buccaneers, who passed into the Great Coliseum in the Sky on Sunday. No doubt McKay is regaling Grantland Rice, Red Smith and Jim Murray with heaven's greatest one-liners, while Billy Martin and Vince Lombardi do a slow burn on a nearby cloud. Nobody could spin it like Johnny McKay. A toast, sir. Cheers.
Brian Murphy of the San Francisco Chronicle writes the "Monday Morning Water Cooler" every week for Page 2.
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