a year in review
Right here, right now we delve into our sports’ ode for 2012
By Fred Lief
AP Sports Writer
So how was your year? Setbacks, advances?
Hey, no doubt, it went better than Lance’s.
First up on sports’ yearlong ride: an unrelenting Crimson Tide.
JoePa makes his great migration, trailed by heartache and litigation.
Eli’s coming and Giants roll, past Brady in the Super Bowl.
Suddenly, all’s Linsanity: headlines, puns, sheer inanity.
A banned Ryan Braun left fans aghast, but an arbiter said not so fast.
Daytona, Kenseth – let’s explain: The night sets fire to the rain.
Then football gets its jolt of jolts, when Peyton’s place is not with Colts.
Tebow leaves the Mile High air and joins the Jets – a time for prayer.
Kentucky wins, backed by Davis. Rent a team (call Hertz or Avis).
Baylor follows. Need a reason? Brittney Griner, perfect season.
Ozzie Guillen, with much to tell, sings loving praises of Fidel.
The shaken Saints now turn to Vitt; Pat Summitt says it’s time to quit.
Out at Indy, sitting pretty, once again it’s all Franchitti.
Pro football vets demand their due, concussed and angry, thousands sue.
I’ll Have Another’s path seems clear, but still no Triple Crown this year.
Wait a second. Can this be right? Manny Pacquiao lost a fight?
Lord Stanley’s Cup goes to the Kings, while hockey’s woes wait in the wings.
After all the sound and fury, Clemens walks, cleared by a jury.
The Heat are champs. It looks like reign. South Beach party – LeBron and Dwyane.
Sandusky’s jury has its say: This coach won’t see the light of day.
Soccer’s armada, mighty Spain, captures the Euros in Ukraine.
Come Wimbledon, Serena’s crown; Paterno’s statue is taken down.
Then Wiggins rides with guile and grit, the Tour de France goes to a Brit.
Olympics start, McCartney sings, Phelps swims with gills, Bolt soars with wings.
Pistorius runs, Gabby’s great; a specter looms: Badmintongate.
Brilliant Games, with heart and brio; snuff the flame and on to Rio.
Augusta bends. How awfully nice. A female member – Condi Rice.
Lance lambasted for all to see, his lies unfold as sponsors flee, his titles stripped, life off its hinge; now it’s all about the syringe.
Perfect time to make this wager: Andy Murray wins a major.
The NHL then shuts its door. (I think we’ve heard this song before.)
Replacement refs prove one big mess, the league is forced to acquiesce.
Ryder Cup comes to Medinah. Europe gives U.S. angina.
Hold no vote, form no committee – Washington’s a baseball city.
Those Oakland A’s, no hand-me-down. Miguel Cabrera, Triple Crown.
Buster Posey and Hunter Pence. This really doesn’t make much sense.
The Giants sweep to take it all. Black and orange, the style for fall.
No marathon, New York City. Sandy strikes and shows no pity.
Colts ride a wave of splendid Luck. They shave their heads and play for Chuck.
The Lakers stumble, won’t sit still, sign D’Antoni, pass on Phil.
Keselowski, Penske Sprint to Cup; Notre Dame, ’Bama, coming up.
College conferences realign, in thrall to TV’s dollar sign. Maryland, Rutgers, Big Ten bound, the money chase goes round and round.
The Chiefs and Cowboys reel from blows. The NFL’s in mourning clothes.
Johnny Football wins Heisman race; Pacquiao’s crushed, flat on his face.
The year is quickly put to bed, with what’s been done and what’s been said, while limbering up sight unseen, for what’s on deck ... 2013.