Pitchers and catchers have reported to baseball spring training camps, and that can only mean one thing.

It’s time to clean off my desk.

I guess I can toss away all those juicy notes on Brandon Aiyuk, Justin Verlander, and Bad Bunny. That should thin the pile down to where I can almost see what material my desk is actually made of.

I’ve been meaning to write about the upsurge of the San Jose Sharks until I realized the only thing I know about the sport is that ice goes in Margaritas. And, here’s a scrap of paper that says, “write about how Buddy Hield is an immovable piece of the Warriors’ playoff hopes.”

I’ve got a couple of things here that remind me to pay a parking ticket, and a shopping list that makes me realize I forgot to buy the pickled watermelon rind. And….wow! Here’s that bone my dog was chewing on last week.

Oh wait, here’s another note I made to myself, post-Kuminga trade. It was stuck to my desk mired in leftover ramen. I can’t read all of it but it says something about “tude.”

I guess in retrospect it seems that Jonathan Kuminga might have had just a bit of an attitude. He thought slightly more of his ability to play in this best-of-all basketball leagues, and his coach thought there were roughly 300 guys in the NBA who were more complete players than he was.

Kuminga can score. And when he feels like it, he can sometimes defend, too. But, in the mind of Steve Kerr, you can’t be a full-time scorer and a part-time defender. Kuminga thinks he’s got all the pieces. The coach thinks part of his game is made of spare parts. Looking down the road, my money’s on the coach.

Terrific Tirico

Before we distance ourselves too much from the Super Bowl, I’d like to hand out a kudo to a peer. My desk is chock full of kudos and I need to unload a few of them.

I try to make a point of never criticizing a broadcaster of any game, because doing what I do is such a subjective thing. You’re inherently both loved and hated. So, in this weekly yarn, I avoid any comparisons.

But, what Mike Tirico did on Super Bowl Sunday is worthy of note. I know about preparing for a game. That’s a broadcaster’s biggest job — preparation. Calling the game is the easiest part of the job.

What Mike Tirico did was prepare thoroughly for the game, and he had an impeccable call. Then, after four hours of announcing football’s biggest game of the year and the following awards presentation, he stayed on the field and segued into being the host of the Olympic Games that were being held 7,000 miles away. Doing play-by-play, handling an awards ceremony, and being a host of a totally different event being held on another continent, are three distinctly different jobs.

I promise you. Very few broadcasters can do what Mike Tirico did last Sunday.

So, Mike — have a kudo. In fact, take two or three.

I’ve got a desk full of them.

Mascot musings

Now to the really meaty stuff. Team mascots.

I’ve been sitting on this breaking story for a couple of months now.

As you probably know from previous rants, I hate mascots. It stems from doing college sports for the last few decades and the remarkable propensity for every team rabbit, bear, dragon or platypus with a frat boy yahoo inside an oversized costume wanting to be on camera.

Preferably in place of me.

I hated the Oregon Duck. Probably because he was about a foot taller than me and also dressed better. There was never an on-camera open to a show in Eugene without the duck towering above my color analyst and me.

I’ve always felt that Oskie and the Stanford Tree have been doing the same act since about 1955. I always wished for the tree to suddenly develop Dutch Elm Disease.

I remember when the Kansas Jayhawk — who did his act on roller skates — took out my color analyst in the midst of our opening standup. I asked a question, and the Jayhawk answered it.

I bring this up because a recent poll of favorite mascots in the NFL saw Sourdough Sam, the 49ers cherubic gold miner, wallowing in 16th place. Of course Blitz, the mascot of the Seattle Seahawks was number one.

So, I ask this question: How many of you knew who Sourdough Sam is? And, did you know the 49ers even had a mascot?

If you answered yes to either of those queries, my only response is — why?

College conundrums

Finally, these two scraps of paper with scribblings on them came a couple of months apart. They also tell you just how absurd the world of college football has become.

The first was about 12 year old Dray Hester — the son of Hall of Fame wide receiver Devin Hester.

I guess the 7th grader is, like dad, a pretty good athlete. I say that because he has been offered a football scholarship by head coach Mario Cristobal at the University of Miami, class of 2031.

Dray is currently plying his craft for the Anytime Jags in Orlando. They also have a 10-year old tight end who’s being recruited by five middle schools.

It’s not certain if Dray will accept the Miami offer. His agent says there are several other schools interested.

And, this final note from the Department of Absurdity. Linebacker Solomon Tuliaupupu has been granted a 9th year of eligibility to play college football. Tuliaupupu began his college career in 2018 at USC where he redshirted as a freshman. He had two foot surgeries which cost him 3 years of his career at USC before playing 7 games for the Trojans in 2024. He transferred to Montana last year and this week was allowed one more season — his 9th — this coming year.

After graduation he hopes move to Leisure World.

Barry Tompkins is a 40-year network television sportscaster and a San Francisco native. Email him at barrytompkins1@gmail.com.