Random thoughts and observations on Steve Smith, the Olympics and Padraig Harrington's semi-major accomplishment

It's been a busy week for me. But between writing columns for a newspaper and stories for two different magazines -- along with interviewing for full-time jobs -- I have still found the time to keep up with the latest goings on in the world of sports.

And here's my take on a few of them, starting with Steve Smith.

As I watched him catch his only pass of the game in Saturday's exhibition opener against Indianapolis, I couldn't help but get the feeling that this might be one of the final times we see the All-Pro wide receiver playing in a Carolina Panthers uniform. Here are two separate blog items that suggest that the volatile star might be on the trading block because of his recent fight with teammate Ken Lucas as practice:

http://sports.yahoo.com/nfl/blog/shutdown_corner/post/Are-the-Panthers-considering-trading-Steve-Smith?urn=nfl,98454

http://myespn.go.com/blogs/nfceast/0-2-22/Smith-to-the-Cowboys-.html

Personally, I don't think it's a good idea to move Smith unless the Panthers can get a suitable replacement at WR for him, which is highly unlikely this close to the start of the season. But I can't say that I blame team management if they do decide to deal him. This is, after all, not the first time Smith has come to blows with a member of his own team.

Granted, the earlier instance happened six years ago and Smith has -- by all accounts -- been a model citizen since then. But even though No. 89 has behaved himself since that first dust up, when he was charged with misdemeanor assault for breaking teammate Anthony Bright's nose in 2002, he has remained a moody, high-maintenance player and team owner Jerry Richardson doesn't mess around when it comes to character issues.

My guess is that Richardson had more to say about Smith's suspension for the first two games of the regular season than coach John Fox, because it's Fox's job that's on the line this season. Not having an explosive game-breaker like Smith in the lineup against San Diego and Chicago can potentially put the Panthers -- and Fox -- in the position of having to play catch-up for the rest of the season.

We all saw how that worked out last season when Smith missed the first two games with a hamstring injury.

Moving on to the Olympics ....

It never ceases to amaze me the crap we Americans will watch once every four years just because it's played under a flag with five interlocking rings on it. And I'm as guilty as anyone.

In the last three days, I have willingly watched women's sword fighting, water polo, volleyball (both beach and indoor) , syncronized diving and rowing. Any other time, I wouldn't even be curious enough to stop if I saw those sports while channel surfing.

Of course, the reason we do is it is national pride. You know: USA! USA! USA! and all that. But watching the Olympics just doesn't seem to be as much fun as it used to be when the Soviet Union was around to be as our intense rival. Then it dawned on me. Everyone else seems to be enjoying the Olympics more than ever these days. Why? Because given the climate of world events, we have become to other countries what the Ruskies were to us -- the Evil Empire everybody else loves to hate and root against.

Just a couple more random Olympic thoughts:

# There's no way at least half of those Chinese "women" gymnasts meet the sport's minimum age requirement of 16 years old. Just look at their faces and body shapes and compare them to everyone else in the field -- especially the Americans. Better yet, since NBC is already over in Bejing televising the Olympics, maybe they can put Chris Hansen on the case to root out the truth. He seems to have a knack for rooting out the truth when it comes to underage girls.

# I know this is going to sound insensitive, but that's one of the advantages of not working full-time for a daily newspaper anymore. Watching the rowing competition, I was surprised when the Cuban boat finished last. You'd think that given all the rowing those guys do trying to get off the island to the U.S., they'd be better at the sport than they are.

# And finally -- going back to the everybody hates the U.S. theme -- does anybody out there really think the Star Spangled snafu at Michael Phelps' first medal ceremony was an accident? If the roles had been reversed and that had happened in the U.S., it would have been an international incident.

One last thing that came to mind Sunday while watching Sergio Garcia gag away yet another major championship: By winning the PGA Championship for his second straight major title, Padraig Harrington has become golf's version of Hakeem Olajuwon and the 1990s Houston Rockets.

Just as the Rockets took advantage of Michael Jordan's two-year absence on the baseball field, Harrington is the fortunate opportunist who made the most of Tiger Woods' current surgical sabatical. But hey, like I always say after one of my sliced approach shots hits a tree and bounces back onto the green, they don't ask how, just how many.

So long, Skip

I have this annyoying bottle opener that plays the call from the final out of the 1995 World Series. "The Atlanta Braves have given you a championship!" it calls out every time you use it.

The voice is a familiar one I grew up with. Chances are if you're from the Southeast or watched a lot of baseball on SuperStation TBS during the past 2 1/2 decades, you did, too.

It's the voice of Skip Caray.

Nasally, enthusiastic and usually full of sarcasm, it was hardly the classic radio voice of a Mel Allen, Vin Scully or Jon Miller. But that didn't matter. Along with Ernie Johnson and Pete Van Wieren, Skip helped get a lot of Braves fans through a lot of forgettable summer nights in the 1970s and 80s. He then provided the joyous soundtrack for my favorite team's remarkable 14-season stretch of division championships, highlighted by that World Series triumph in '95.

Like his legendary father Harry Caray, Skip became a broadcasting legend with calls such as "Braves win! Braves win! Braves win!" and by assigning an imaginary home town to everyone who caught a foul ball in the Turner Field stands ("And that souvenir goes to a fan from Dunwoody," he'd say).

Saturday night, after calling the Braves' 9-0 loss to the Milwaukee Brewers, Caray's distinctive voice was suddenly silenced when he died in his sleep. He was 68. Though slowed by an illness that limited him to calling only home games and adversely affected his grasp of the facts, he remained an Atlanta icon until the end.

I am so glad that my wife let me tune in to the final innings of Thursday night's game as we drove to Florida for the weekend. At least I got to hear Caray's voice live one final time. It's a voice that will live forever in the memories of Braves fans everywhere -- even if they don't have an annoying bottle opener.

So long, Skip.