​by Jack Kerwin  |  [email protected]

Was fortunate growing up.

Born into a household with a father who enjoyed sports, loved Philadelphia and had an open mind (for the most part), yours truly was never hamstrung by preconceived notions about how things were “supposed” to be or any hatred for individuals, teams and what have you that didn't happen to be from the favorite school.

Frankly, didn't have a favorite anyway ...

With that, it was – and is – all about Philly for me, when it comes to things with regard to Philly sports. If a team succeeds, even if it ain't from “my school,” don't care. Still happy to see it.

Never had any predetermined animosity, dislike, or disdain. None of it. That had to be earned.

Rollie Massimino never got there for me. So the R.I.P. wishes are genuine as we bid adieu to the former Villanova University men's basketball coach, who passed away Wednesday at the age of 82.

Yeah, Temple grad here. One well versed in just how awesome the Big Five truly was back in the day. Also one well aware of Rollie's heavy hand in turning it into a shell of what it had been during his time on the Main Line, with him seeing the area rivalries as nothing more than an obstacle to the Wildcats realizing their national prime-time potential.

But to focus on that and fail to acknowledge his greatness as a coach at Villanova would be silly at this point.

OK, got it. The guy was not everyone's cup of tea. His pasta-loving, Daddy Mass act could grow old and tiresome, or the tales about it could at least, and for all his disheveled madness on the sidelines, he did come across as an elitist, boorish snob at times, especially when it came to the Philly's beloved annual round-robin hoops affair.

Push come to shove, though, he produced some of the most memorable moments in Philly sports history – regardless of athletic endeavor or level of playing field.

For me, college basketball was never better than it was with the birth of the Big East, and 'Nova, with Rollie at the height of his magic-touch, X's and O's power, was right in the thick of it.

We all remember the national title capping the 1984-85 season. It was a wonderful experience for people in Philly, if they chose to embrace it. Yo, count me in.

That doesn't tell the whole story of his tenure in town, however.

Put it this way, the 'Cats were hardly the “out of the blue” program thrust into the spotlight that far too many would like to have you believe.

Not only were they NCAA Tournament qualifiers in six of the seven campaigns leading into that historic championship one, they reached the Elite Eight not once, not twice, but three times. Guess what ... they reached another one three years after upsetting Georgetown to win it all, too.

Rollie was the mastermind behind it all, utilizing all the talents at his disposal often in hard-to-comprehend fashion. It's how John Pinone bull-in-a-china-shopped his way to more than 2,000 points and 800 rebounds in his career while spearheading 'Nova to 89 wins, four NCAA appearances and two of those Elite Eights. It's also how low-scoring sophomore bench player Harold Jensen became a legendary figure in tournament folklore.

The frumpy little guy with the crazy antics knew exactly what he was doing in tapping into his resources at just the right time.

If he wasn't out-coaching the opposition, he was out-motivating them.

His ability to adapt, to go from fast to slow, from bully ball to finesse, was a true art ... and one rarely seen anymore.

He will be missed, but always remembered here ... and forever appreciated for the positive moments he provided Philly.
​

by Jack Kerwin  |  [email protected]

He is a Philly fan's dream.

Big. Powerful. Productive. Even better thus far than his press clippings would have suggested.

Carson Wentz?

If only ...

Not for nothing, but the dude of all dudes in pro sports around here has been the Phillies' long-overdue August call-up, Rhys Hoskins, not the reputed and overtly promoted savior of all things related to the Eagles.

Oh, really got no issues with Wentz himself. Kid is a nice quarterback. Has some tools. Lotta confidence. Smarts for sure.

But he ain't never showed out like Hoskins already has. Since arriving in town little more than two weeks ago, the 24-year-old slugger has deposited 9 balls in the seats – setting a major-league record in doing so by merely his 54th at-bat in the bigs, and making an absolute mockery of the Phillies' slow-as-molasses way of bringing up prospects.

Thing is, take away his obvious nervousness in the initial four-game series of his stay at Citizens Bank Park and Hoskins has gone off the last 12 games ...

All of his bombs, 20 of his 21 RBIs. Elevating his batting average to respectability, his on-base percentage to beyond that, and his slugging percentage to a Ruthian level.

Love the swing, the bat speed through the proverbial and the leg lift that triggers the whole deal in the first place.

Frankly, not enough is being made of the fact that the youngster is doing this while being forced to play a position – left field – he clearly is not capable of handling to any reasonable level of competency or comfort. Typically, such a chore would effect a player at the plate to ghastly degrees.

Not Hoskins.

While the club continues to run out incumbent Tommy Joseph at first base most of the time, Hoskins basks away in mediocrity in the outfield before taking center stage once he has a bat in his hands.

It's quite amazing.

Especially with what little fanfare is being made about it.

Yeah, we'll go crazy, go nuts about Wentz throwing a bomb to Torrey Smith, and coming up a tad short, mind you, with the receiver bailing him out. The second-year signal-caller has been solid, good even for such a novice in the grand scheme of things. But hardly the gridiron genius we are led to believe, by other fans, media members, or even the Eagles themselves.

Give him time. Maybe he will be all that they say.

Doubt it. But maybe he will.

Hoskins already is all that ... and then some.

For now.

One can only hope this run continues, even albeit at a slower pace.

For those scoring, or tabulating, at home, if Hoskins stayed on his current path he'd hit 90 homers in a season and drive in 210 runs.

Hyperbole aside, let's really delve into this. In the last seven game, which, by the way, have seen the Phillies go 4-3, Hoskins has six homers, 16 RBIs and 10 hits in 25 at-bats (.400).

Heck, only Miami's Giancarlo Stanton can compare to that on the diamond. In football parlance, what are we talking about ... Brady, Brees, Rodgers?

We certainly ain't talking Wentz.

If only, Eagles fans. If only.

Good thing the Phillies waited to bring up Hoskins, huh?

by Jack Kerwin  |  [email protected]

The stakes are higher this year.

Hard to believe, but it's true.

When the Temple University football team kicks off its 2017 season two weeks from this coming Saturday in South Bend, Ind., that reality will smack the school's administration and its new head coach right in their collective face.

Put it this way, if the Owls wanna be big time, they have been given a golden opportunity to prove their worth as such. Make no mistake, through the program-building genius of Matt Rhule and the hard work put in by those who bought into his used-car salesman pitches on behalf of the Cherry & White the last four years, they've earned it.

But to get it ... well, that's another altogether.

This ain't your grandfather's Owls, or, hell, even my Owls before, during and after matriculating on the North Broad campus another lifetime ago.

No, these guys get breaks. Their time and effort has been rewarded. With wins. Bowl games. All-America honors. First-round selections.

Beating Penn State for the first in seven decades and change in 2015 got everyone's attention across the country, including right here in metro Philly. Giving Notre Dame all it could handle later that campaign gave further evidence of the program's mounting legitimacy.

Ditto with winning an American Athletic Conference title last year.

Now, a rematch with the Fighting Irish awaits. Only this time with no Rhule or P.J. Walker or Jahad Thomas or Tyler Matakevich or Haason Reddick to lead the charge.

Which is why the stakes are higher.

Thing is, if Temple is ever going to be big time, even just a reasonable facsimile of big time, not only is it going to have to beat teams like Notre Dame and Penn State with some regularity, it is going to have to do so with new players and new direction every few years.

Hey, whether or not Geoff Collins breaks the trend of guys using the Temple gig as a stepping stone to greener pastures and opts to stick around, the fact is each player he brings into the program is on the clock the moment the ink dries on a national letter of intent.

In other words, there will be turnover. Only four years of eligibility allowed, max, and if a kid is good enough, who's to say he'd exhaust that time anyway.

Rhule departing for Baylor was not what the Temple faithful was hoping. Not after he got things rolling in a way they never had before for the school's football program.

But, in a strange way, his decision forces the Owls to take the next step – either up or down.

Notre Dame offers an immediate window into what it will be.

Being the hard sell in this town, down is not recommended. Any good will, or attention, gained the previous two years could be gone in a flash – even if the preferred pro "fare" stinks.

The potential is there, though, to go up.

Ryquell Armstead is a stud at running back, and, frankly, fellow juniors David Hood and Jager Gardner make depth at that position the envy of most schools in the country. The Owls have another defensive star in senior end Sharif Finch. They have the best-known fullback in the country in Nick Sharga thanks to Mack Brown's constant gushing over the young man.

They also appear to have made another great hire. Rhule proved a brilliant choice. Collins has shown the same kind of energy and enthusiasm and recruiting acumen, while – gulp – coming across as even more appealing and more sincere.

But the stakes are high now. That potential needs to be realized.

If the Owls wanna be big time.