ROB KONRAD: 'UNBROKEN' OR UNBELIEVABLE?

Almost as soon as Diana Nyad completed her 112-mile swim from Cuba to Florida two years
ago, the marathon swimming community came out in full force and raised doubts about the
64-year-olds journey and whether or not it was legit.

So, when news broke Friday morning that former NFL player Rob Konrad swam nine miles to
shore in Florida after falling off his boat, there were more than enough haters who think there is
something fishy to Konrad's story. For an untrained swimmer to go nine miles in rough, choppy
50-degrees waters in the middle of the night, would fall into the 'superhuman' category.

However, we do know this about the former fullback out of Syracuse and the last player to
wear the famed number 44 at the place where Jim Brown, Floyd Little and Ernie Davis
wore it: the guy is tough, determined, resilient, and smart. Is it possible that he could've
survived nearly 10 hours in shark-infested waters with no food, water, and more than a
touch of hypothermia? Yes.

First accounts of breaking news are often filled with misinformation and exaggerations of the
truth. It happens. Remember all the incorrect facts that came out of Newtown and 9/11? I prefer
to hear from Konrad and get all the facts before rushing to judgment.

Konrad is a clean-cut, intelligent, all-American type who doesn't appear to be the kind of
guy who would make up a story like this. Unless, he is gunning for a reality show and flat-out
misses the limelight he captured at Syracuse and with the Miami Dolphins, I will give him the
benefit of the doubt, I think.

I just find it strange that he would be fishing by himself  when nightfall is just around the
corner. Athletes and former athletes tend to do things with friends or in groups. I mean,
if you caught a huge fish, you'd probably want someone to be there to see it. Maybe I'm
wrong because in this day of selfie-obsession, all it takes is one click of your iPhone and
you have a great story to last a lifetime.

Then there is the distance, nine miles. That is a long, long way for someone who didn't
train for it. I finished a five-mile open water swim in a river after training and there
were people in kayaks with water if you needed it. The swim was a bear. Now, think
about doubling that distance in real cold salt water, with no food or water, at night, with
no compass, and without much training. IT...WOULD...BE...NEXT...TO...IMPOSSIBLE.

Nine miles.

However, we have learned that the mind is a powerful thing, especially from the book
and movie, "Unbroken". Louie Zamperini survived 47 days on a raft with very little
food or water, then was battered and beaten for two years in a prisoner of war camp.

The one thing Zamperini and Kornad have in common is they were elite athletes for
much of their lives. Konrad flourished and survived in the most mentally and physically
demanding sport: football. He had an iron will and the mental toughness to play
in the NFL. He endured physical punishment and trained him mind to overcome
obstacles.

There is a good chance this story is NOT too good to be true and Konrad refused to
be 'unbroken.'  But then again....

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PEDRO MARTINEZ AND 'THE INTERVIEW'

It's been said that journalist hasn't really covered sports until he covers sports in Boston. With
the Red Sox, Patriots, Bruins, and Celtics, it's a mecca of athletic achievement, drama, and a
passion for sports that borders on insanity. The backdrop is a world class city and the stage is
open for those who dare to be great and eager to carve out their legacy in the Commonwealth.

Few players have ever performed on the big stage in Boston like Pedro Martinez. He was
dominant and had a flair for the dramatic. It was appointment viewing every time Pedro pitched
and must-see television every time he talked. Charismatic, intelligent, and fearless on the mound,
Pedro was never afraid to speak his mind when a microphone was placed in his face.

Everybody loved Pedro and he owned the city after helping the Red Sox to a pair of World
Series titles, which in that town makes Pedro a legend forever. (And when talking about him
it was never Martinez,  simply Pedro).

When I saw that Pedro made the Hall of Fame, I had to chuckle. It wasn't because he simply
made juiced up hitters look silly during the Steroid Era, but it brought back memories of
an interview I did with him after one of his dominant performances in 1998, which was a long,
long, time ago in this now social media-driven world of sports, news, and entertainment.

I was working for WABU, the Red Sox flagship station at the time. I had played in the Red
Sox organization as a minor-league catcher, so to be in Boston and have the opportunity to
cover the team on a daily basis was an adrenaline rush that you just can't buy or manufacture.

However, I was never a "homer" and didn't wave the Red Sox pom-poms. If there was a tough
question that needed to be asked, I felt compelled to ask because in a town like Boston, they
expect those kind of questions to be asked.

During my interview with Pedro after a dominant 12-strikeout performance against Toronto,
I asked all the necessary lead-up questions about his outing, the team, and an upcoming
important road trip. But this game was the first one after he had ripped the fans after booing
him for a subpar performance. After spending most of his career in fan-friendly Montreal,
I'm sure he was shocked, not to mention hurt, when boos reigned down on him for one
bad outing.

(Remember, this is Boston, fans and the media went overboard and criticized Bill Belichick
and Tom Brady after the loss to Kansas City in September. It was embarrassing.)

Nobody in the media had yet to ask Pedro about the boos because it was his first start after
that game. I asked and I got a classic Pedro response, eye roll included. I wasn't embarrassed,
I had to ask the question and at the least, his retort made for good television.

Now, that he's going into the baseball Hall of Fame, I might save it for a little while longer.

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STEROID ERA STILL DESTROYING EVERYTHING GOOD ABOUT BASEBALL

Pedro Martinez, Randy Johnson, Craig Biggio and John Smoltz burned a trail to Cooperstown
Tuesday, gaining entry to the Baseball's Hall of Fame. Left in the their wake are more questions
about who was clean, who was on steroids, and why those who were on them should never
achieve baseball immortality.

The Hall of Fame announcement used to one of the greatest things about baseball. Cooperstown
is a Norman Rockwell type of town that is home to the most significant shrine of all the sports.
It's truly special. But it's been polluted every year and will be for the next 20 because of
all the PED talk.The great accomplishments of the players will be followed by the black cloud
of steroid suspicion. It's quite nauseating, really.

Curt Schilling got more votes than Roger Clemens, really? Mike Piazza received a much
higher percentage of votes than Barry Bonds? That's downright absurd. Nearly everything is
absurd about the voting process now and many parts of the game are, too, thanks to the
Steroid Era.

Yep, Bud Selig and the owners (and many sports writers, too) turned a blind eye to pumped
up players putting up video-game stats every year. Nearly everyone in the game got filthy rich,
the owners, players, television networks,--if you had something to do with major league baseball,
chances are you moved into a higher tax bracket.

Sad thing is, while everyone was getting rich off the golden goose,  the integrity of the game,
the one thing that used to mean so much (just ask Bart Giamatti, the former commissioner who
died trying to protect it thanks to the Pete Rose betting scandal) went into the gutter. It's like
the Exxon Valdez. Years after running aground, baseball's ocean is still getting poisoned by
something that should've been cleaned up 20 years ago.

Remember when records meant something. Baseball more than any other game is
stat-driven. Fans used to be able to recite the hallowed records of the game with ease:
61 home  runs in a season, 755 career home runs, and 200 hits in a year actually considered
an accomplishment.

Steroids came along and every punch and judy hitter was belting 40 bombs a year and some
former string-bean named Luis Gonzalez hit 52 home runs. Good lord, Hank Aaron never
hit more than 47 in a season.

It was a joke. Sammy Sosa cranked 60 or more home runs in three consecutive seasons
which is insane! Babe Ruth never did that. Guess the Bambino really wasn't that good. The
sports  writers, the supposed "keepers" of the game sure got caught up in Sosa's daily home
run derby. I never recall them writing any article about Sosa being on the juice. They know
everything about the game and hear all the whispers like a teenage girl in the high school
cafeteria.

Yet, they are making sure Sosa doesn't  get anywhere near Cooperstown even though he
has 609 home runs to his credit. 609!

In the vote Tuesday, Sosa got 6-point something of the vote and is in jeopardy of falling
off the ballot for good. Yet, there is Piazza who admitted taking Andro, the same drug
that allowed Mark McGwire to hit baseball's into orbit at a record pace, and he got nearly
70 percent of the vote and is in good position to get in to the Hall of Fame next year. Yeah,
that makes great sense.

It's ridiculous. It really is. Some of these sports writers try to tell us who they "think" took
steroids and who didn't. Remember, there was no testing during the heavy part of the
Steroid Era and players got a good heads up before it was coming. Really, only the dumb
ones ended up getting caught.

Sorry, but the sports writers didn't know how many guys were on steroids during the
era and they are not entitled to the "suspicion" thing now. Jose Canseco probably wasn't
far off when he said that more than 70 percent of the players in the game were on the
juice. Many think Ken Griffey, Jr. was never on steroids when he played. How does
anybody know that? Was it just because he was perceived as "The Kid" and the face
of baseball?

Andy Petitte was listed in the Mitchell Report (which was a joke, too) and he admitted
he used PED's to get back from injury and "help his team." Petitte seemed to get a free
pass from the media because he was simply a nice guy and a born-again Christian. The
fact of the matter is, he was a cheater. Using a PED to get you healthier faster is cheating.

Petitte got a free-pass while Clemens got hammered because some trainer with not a lot
of credibility ratted him out. Clemens never failed a drug test and unlike Petitte never
admitted taking PED's. The Rocket has more than 150  wins than Schilling, 1,000 more
strikeouts, and seven  more Cy Young awards and Schilling gets a higher-percentage of votes?

Schilling  was a gutty, brilliant pitcher, especially in the post-season, but he's no Roger
Clemens and he'd be the first one to tell you that.

Clemens and Bonds won't get into the Hall of Fame in my lifetime, which is probably
going to be around their lifetime, too. Nope, they never failed a test or even had to take
one during the early part of the Steroid Era. Yet, they get treated by the voters like they
weren't as good as Omar Moreno and Andy Hawkins.

Pizza admitted taking Andro and he's close to getting in. Clemens never admitted to
taking anything nor failed a drug test, but got ratted out by his trainer. He only has a
slightly better chance of getting in than me. The experts say, "Clemens must've been
on something. He was throwing 95-mph when he was 43-years old." Yeah, so was
Nolan Ryan, but many of the sports writers want to attribute that to being country
boy strong and just a physical freak. Right. Whatever they say.

That's what the Hall of Fame voting has become: throwing darts blindfolded and one
big mess. The records in baseball have become meaningless, which is a shame.

The saddest part of it all is the kid going to his first game and asking his father what
the Steroid Era was and how it affected the game. Dad would need a doubleheader
to explain that one.

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CHRIS CHRISTIE GOES COWBOY UP

I wasn't convinced at first about New Jersey Governor Chris Christie's involvement
in the Bridegate scandal that caused mayhem and mass delays near the entry to New York
City in 2013, but after seeing him suck up to Jerry Jones and the Cowboys over the last
month, I believe there is NO way he could've known about it.

I mean, between waving his Cowboy pom-poms, ordering from Papa Johns, and screaming
at hecklers on the boardwalk with ice cream cone in hand, there is just no chance Christie
could've had any time to worry about clogging up traffic as revenge to a politician in Fort Lee.



Christie with Papa Johns dude placing order

On Sunday night, Christie was in the private suite of Cowboys owner Jerry Jones whooping
it up as Dallas battled Detroit in the Wild Card round. The self-proclaimed lifelong Cowboys
fan since first bite, was pictured at the end of the game in an oh-so-awkward man hug with
Jones and some other free-loading homer.

Christie looked like the bench warmer in Little League trying to get into the celebration
with the stars of the team. Jones seemed to be saying, "Come on, kid, you had nothing to
do with this, but get in here for the picture."

Any chance of Christie winning the 2016 presidential election went out the door with that
freeze-frame which hit the Internet before Christie could say Dunkin' Donuts. It has to rank
up there with Massachusetts Governor Michael Dukakis' photograph that all but sunk him
in the 1988 presidential race. Good intention, bad, bad result.

Do we really want the next president of the United States looking like that?

And Mr. Governor, can you please change up your wardrobe a bit? Last month when you
were waving the pom-poms in Jones' box in Philadelphia as the Cowboys took on the
Eagles, you were there with that same nasty orange sweater, size XXXL, of course. Unless
you live in Cleveland, who the heck wears orange anymore? Orange is not the new black.

Get rid of it, just like you did Christina Genovese Renna, your former aide that was made
a scapegoat for the Bridgegate scandal. Burn it, trash it, whatever, just get rid of it.

And before you go to the Cowboys game in Green Bay, make sure to pack your parka
and learn how to hive-five, man hug, and celebrate. After all, there will be a much bigger
audience than Sunday night and you can redeem yourself---or maybe not.

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THE LESSONS OF STUART SCOTT

Whether you liked Stuart Scott as a sportscaster is irrelevant. We live in a world where people
judge and make snap decisions about others based on how they look, dress, talk, and act even
though they don't take two minutes to find out for themselves what a person is really like.

It' sad, but that's just how most people in our society operate.

Not everybody liked Scott or his schtick on ESPN. Some people like to get their sports
without the "boo-yeahs", "bams", and pillows that are always cooler on the other side.
There isn't a person who walked this earth or worked in television that's universally adored.
Not even Stuart Scott. Using his own words, he had "his haters".

However, nearly everyone should admire Scott for the path he blazed, the doors he opened,
his passion for his job, love for his daughters, but most of all, we should respect and remember
Scott because he never gave up and refused to quit living as cancer was ravaging his body.

As Tim Robbins' character, Andy Dufrane,  said in Shawshank Redemption, "you can either
get busy living or get busy dying."

That quote came to mind when I saw video of Scott doing mixed martials arts and working
out hard just hours after going through brutal chemotherapy treatments. It would've been
so easy for him to say, "I'm going home to lay on the couch all day", but he didn't.

Instead, Scott put on his workout gear and pounded heavy bags and a sparring partner until
he squeezed every ounce of energy he had in his cancer-ravaged body. He wanted to live as
he was clearly dying. Like Jimmy Valvano before him, Scott never gave up. He never, ever
gave up.

I met Stuart Scott when we were at UNC majoring in Radio, Television, and Movie
Production taking a few of the same courses in 1985. As my friends can tell you, I never
forget a face and I never forgot Scott. He was a different kind of cat. I got into the sports
television industry like Scott and ran into him covering events along the way. Scott always
made like he remembered me even though he probably didn't.

Scott dared to dream and dared to be different. He went against the grain and his style didn't
always sit well with the white-establishment in television. But Scott was a man of conviction
and he believed in himself and his style. Nobody at ESPN will ever forget him.

Life was short before Stuart Scott passed at the age of 49, but for all those who fall in the
same age range, it got a whole lot shorter today. You can be young, on top of your profession,
and living the dream like Scott was, and then boom. Your life begins to fall apart.

Tomorrow is not promised. The death of Scott today really made that hit home. But Scott
showed us that even when you're struggling or worse yet, battling cancer and facing death,
we should keep up the fight and keep living every single day.

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I AM A STAT. I MAKE THE SPORTS WORLD GO 'ROUND

I am a stat. I'm what you get when sabermetric geeks crunch numbers of every aspect
of every game in every sport.

I am a stat. Small, yet so powerful. I have a big say in who gets paid and who doesn't.

I am a stat. ESPN loves to show me off.

I am a stat. In the hands of Scott Boras, I can make Jacoby Elsbury and that Choo guy
worth more than $100 million. My stat from that is about $3 million, but with MLB owners
and GM's, it's like taking candy from a baby.

I am a stat. Look what I did for Billy Beane and Moneyball.  Beane should thank his lucky
stars he ever met me. Without me, Brad Pitt would've never played him in the movie.

I am a stat. I can determine who wins a Fantasy League and who doesn't it.

I am a stat. People say it's all about winning and losing, but a million of me can be
whipped up to say otherwise.

I am a stat. I'm like McDonald's that always comes up with new items on the menu.
I've come up with things like QB rating, WAR, and other things the average sports
fan doesn't quite understand.

I am a stat. If you dig hard enough and can be creative, I can make players look better
 than they actually are.

I am stat. A lot of managers can't make a decision without me.

I am a stat. I know the difference between a clutch player and someone who often chokes
when the game is on the line.

I am stat. Because of me, nerds who got cut from their Little League teams are running
major league franchises.

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DEAR BRAD STEINKE: IT'S TIME TO TELL THE TRUTH

Dear Brad,

As I was watching Showtime's powerful documentary, Lance Armstrong: Stop at Nothing, I
couldn't help but notice the similarities between the two of you. You not only bear a striking
physical resemblance to him, but your moral compass points in the same direction as his: due
South. You are Lance Armstrong without the bike.

Armstrong was a cheater, but in our society today, that's not really a big deal. It's the fact that
he not only lied, lied, lied, and then lied some more, he tried to bury and smear the reputations
of those who knew his dirty little secret that he was a really a fraud. Uncanny similarities for
sure.

Armstrong eventually came clean. I'm sure the weight of all his lies caught up with him. I can
only imagine the burden you've been carrying knowing that you, like Armstrong, lied to
protect yourself. Like Armstrong, you stopped at nothing to try to destroy others to make
yourself look better. That's insecurity at its finest.

Perhaps, you, like Armstrong are the sociopath the Showtime documentary exposed him to
be. Armstrong could look into the camera and flat out lie and think he wasn't lying. He
believed his lies. That's the sign of a sociopath.

Remember that message you left on my answering machine shortly after my contract wasn't
renewed? "Nobody hangs up on Brad Steinke! Do you know how many Emmy-awards I've
won? You deserve to get fired!"?  I'm sure shortly after you left it, you realized just how stupid
you sounded, not to mention childish, but that is exactly who you are : a childish, insecure,
little girl.

I give you credit for knowing the management team didn't have a clue or the backbone to
challenge your ridiculous stories. You were so worried I was going to take that message
and play it for the world, you felt you had to smear my reputation and discredit me first.
You started calling my friends and saying they had called YOU. You told them you were
going to tell on me.

Then, two months after I was no longer with the company, I ran into you at a stop light
in the middle of a bright sunny afternoon in the middle of Atlanta. I didn't say anything to you,
but you ran back to the station and told management I was "following" you. That's right,
I'm coming back from Lake Lanier with two friends, you pull up behind me and consider
that following you. Great story. The cowards at Fox Sports Net believed you, which is
laughable.

Brad, if you were so frightened, why didn't you run to the police? Oh, that's right, they
would've laughed in your face and asked, "What kind of little girl runs to the police for
this?" After laughing at you, they would've arrested for making a false report. Brad, it's
one thing if you were 6-years old, but you were 45! Nobody would ever mistake your
actions for something a real man would ever do.

Nope, you didn't go that route, but you made up this story about me and threatened a
lawsuit against the company if they didn't transfer you to the Fox regional in
Arizona. Brilliant. You are the master manipulator. Congratulations.

Like Armstrong, you have to live with your lies. I can look at myself in the mirror every
day and know the truth. I also can laugh at what a despicable human being your parents
raised.

You can try to run from the truth or bike away from it like Armstrong wanted to do,
but it never dies. Bill Cosby certainly found that out. The truth never dies. You can
try to bury it, rinse it away, or deny it, but it never disappears. Never.

Anytime you want to take a lie detector test, let me know. I will be there anyplace, anytime,
and under any circumstance.

I know this for sure: you'd never show up. Never.

Best,
Paul Devlin

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