Monday (with Golf Playoff Live Blog!) Miscellany: 6-16-08

It feels great to be back. I mean, golfing, rafting, and boozing for four days in the beautiful mountain town of Vail is fine, I suppose, but I'd much rather be seated in the darks (Now, with less dampness! Thanks de-humidifier!) of my basement, blogging the sportage for our intergalactic audiences. Currently, the playoff is on the 13th hole, and Tiger is aiming for an eagle. I'm trying to Mediate his success with jinxes, whatnot.

Every day now and again, we make fun of Canada here on the House of Georges. And most of the time, they've given us reason to do so. Today, they continue that trend.

(U.S. Open Update: Tiger missed the Eagle opportunity, and Rocco shaved a stroke to enter the 14th at +2, though Tiger avoided any gained ground by maintaining his one-stroke lead.)

Bummer. Not as much of a bummer as this, but still:


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(video courtesy of With Leather)

(Update: Rocco just nailed a killer birdie, and Tiger rimmed his putt, a completely disappointing event that knotted up the score. I gotta admit: this is pretty exciting, and the crowd is super fired up for this gig.

Tiger just drove his 15th-hole shot outside the ropes. More of an edge for Rocco? Perhaps he can get out of the Woods.)

The Big Lead shares with us that Sherron Collins has his own translation of "Rock Chalk, Jayhawk." Perhaps Coach Self should host a "Keep It in Your Pants" party.

(Update: Tiger's drive left him in a bunker. Rocco landed himself on the green with a beautiful second shot, inducing speculation that he would now pull away from Tiger. Tiger responded by not only getting himself out of the bunker, but placing his shot closer to the hole than Rocco's. Unpossible!

Holy Fuck! Rocco counters with a putt that had divine intervention all over it! Amazing! His third birdie in a row! Suddenly, my exclamation point key is going out of control!

Tiger missed! Rocco's got a one-stroke lead as we head to the 16th.)

When we got to the bar in Vail Friday night, I was eager to check in on the Royals/Diamondbacks game. I was floored to see that it was scoreless in the seventh, certain that, after coming completely unglued in the previous series with the Texas Rangers, the boys in blue would totally melt against the first-place D'Bags.

When it went to extra innings, a young lady from Tempe saw Yasuhiko Yabuta on the mound and asked me if he used to be a Diamondback. I could not recall, only inform her that he defines suck. Seconds later, he gave up the lone-run, walk-off homer. Guess he didn't care for that comment too much. When the Unit took the mound on Saturday, I was at first nervous to see how young Luke Hochevar would fare, then pretty pleased with the 12-3 beating they handed Arizona. That contest made the rubber match even more intriguing, and, with the help of David DeJesus' grand slam (with Gil Meche on base via a fielder's choice), another KC victory was had, this one to the tune of an 8-3 mark. They'll continue the interleague action with those hated Red Birds tomorrow.

(Update: Tiger and Rocco are still neck and neck. They're both dancing on the 17th. Mr. Woods of course set himself up gracefully, a roughly ten-foot putt in his way. Rocco's a bit further out. And by "a bit," I mean roughly a quarter mile.)

Okay. Maybe Tiger's putt was more like 20 feet. Either way, he missed it. Rocco sunk his, and takes his one-stroke lead to the 18th hole. Will we see a playoff for the playoff?

Ah, the good old days of terrible commercials. Awful Announcing graces the memory banks with some Pete Rose singing.



(Update: Rocco was totally outdriven, landed in a bunker, and Tiger's right in the middle of the fairway. Fuck.

Amazing. Rocco chipped onto the green, leaving himself about 25 feet from the hole. Tiger's turn. They're estimating he's about 40 feet out. He's taking his time scoping the green. If he nails an eagle, he wins (with a Mediate miss).

Woods is wide of the hole by about a foot!

Rocco's up. I can't imagine how he's staying calm. Oh. My. God. He fucking missed. Maybe six inches left.

Tiger for a birdie opportunity. No way he misses this. A sea gull distracts him, and he backs off. Here it is...he drained it.

Alas, so did Rocco. Sudden death, double OT.)

Courtesy of Deadspin, here's a lot of words about soccer over the weekend.

(Update: Back to the golf. The guys will play the par-three seventh hole here, to try and settle this thing. (Meta-Update: I've had to take a shit for like an hour and-a-half. Just sharin'.) Tiger's in the tee box. After his last drive, he looked like he was in pain. No signs of it here now, though. Jesus. This guy takes more time setting up for shots than those dumb pitchers with their pick-off moves. I always boo them.

And he crushed it. Stayed on the fairway, but barely. Rocco's turn. I gotta believe he won't hit the same distance. Good contact. Holy Christ. More bunker debacle.

That should do it. Rocco hit out of the bunker and layed his ball up in the flippin' crowd. Tiger's turn. He puts it right on the edge of the green. Well, it's been incredible. It really has. The "Let's Go, Rocco" chants rain down, and Mediate looks for a drop. He gets a decent one. He's on the green.)

Free Darko has an interesting take on the NBA Finals.

(More Update: Tiger's putting to win. He's up from about 25 feet. Jesus. He's about three inches shy. Rocco takes to the green for a chance to stay alive.)

Since the House of Georges takes reader requests seriously, I'm going to honor the (newly-acquainted) reader Steve's request to discuss the Seattle Seahawks on a more frequent basis, which would mean mentioning them period. After a touch of digging around, I've discovered that their roster -- or at least current projections of --doesn't look half bad. Of course, and this is all coming via a post from Seahawks blog, Hasselbeck will be under center. Now, Seneca Wallace played some decent ball the last time the 'Hawks and Chiefs squared off, but if both he and Bald Matt get hurt, that leaves Charlie Frye at the helm, and I can't put a finger on what that might mean for a football team. That is, he sort of went through a shitty scenario in Cleveland, but who doesn't? Can he handle a Holmgren-run club?

In the backfield, the additions of Julius Jones and T.J. "Fat Guy in a Little Shirt" Duckett are key, according to our inside sources. The receiving corps, I argue, needs help. Maybe it's just me, but the trio of Branch, Burleson, and Engram spells a tired-ass deep threat, and maybe 150 catches combined. What Ben Obomanu and Courtney Taylor bring to the mix, I have no idea. This is the NFC we're talking about here. In ends of tightness, Jeb Putzier might very well be the sleeper, but he used to be a Donkey, which makes him a mule for life. Oops on that signing.

The O-Line has Pork Chop Womack on it, so that's tight, and the linebacking corps contains Lofa Tatupu, who I've heard of, which means zero. But other guys, like the cats over at Field Gulls, know a thing or two about linebacking. Or, there's the dudes at Seahawks Addicts. They're out there scooping all the Seahawks sludge from the windshields and beach umbrellas in Seattle. Like the Seahawks version of Cedric Benson, Rocky Bernard. (Editor's Note: Isn't that the guy from "Mask?")

Anyway, those guys are hard core. They cover things like "inccidents" and "differed" charges. So there's your Seahawks skinny, Steve. I trust you will never again frequent the House of Georges, thus relieving me of my NFC West duties. Glory be to God.

(Perhaps the Final Update: And he missed by just about as much as Tiger did. Another victory for Tiger Woods. Well, at least I can poop now.)