An Evening at the Sprint Center: NHL Exhibition: Los Angeles Kings vs. Pittsburgh Penguins

Enough with the gripes and complaints, already, people. The National Hockey League is not coming to Kansas City anytime soon, and that has nothing to do with Tim Leiweke or AEG. Really, it doesn't.

I tweeted Randy Covitz earlier, and in doing so, I was mistaken. Apparently, last night's NHL exhibition contest featuring the Los Angeles Kings and Pittsburgh Penguins was a record crowd for Kansas City hockey. By 494 people. I sent that tweet, because I swear that announced attendance at that Blues/Blackhawks game was 18,000+, but I've been wrong before, and I'll certainly be wrong again.

What I'm not wrong about is that the dose of professional hockey Kansas City is currently getting -- in the form of the Central Hockey League's Missouri Mavericks, just down the road in Independence -- is all the metro area will be getting for years to come.

Eleven years ago, Paul McGannon formed the grassroots NHL 21, whose primary initiative was to bring an NHL club to Kansas City. At that time, it was a brilliant plan, and the organization continues to work hard to, as they say, "cultivate Kansas City for the NHL." But, at that time, the league landscape was much different.

The Dallas Stars had just won their first Stanley Cup, seven years after moving from Minnesota. The Colorado Avalanche, a mere five years relocated from Quebec, would win their second championship a season later. The following season, it was the one-time Hartford Whalers coming in as runner up, followed by the not-that-young-of-a-franchise Anaheim competing in the Finals, the expansion Tampa Bay Lightning winning it all, and then of course, the lockout.

In each of the previous four seasons, clubs with long-time tenures in their initial cities have been in the finals on both winning and losing ends. Thus, the days of significant franchise shifts are likely behind us. Sure, the Atlanta Thrashers just moved to Winnipeg, but Winnipeg had an interested buyer, and Atlanta -- a city mind you, that already failed once in its NHL endeavors -- was not supporting the club.

So, it's easy to get riled up about Leiweke's quotes, and even easier to point the finger at the Sprint Center's "failures" regarding event management. These, my friends, are not even small bones. They're microscopic.

A few people were caught outside while the game began? Big deal. The venue fixes that first with an anchor tenant. Long lines at concession stands? Didn't we hear those now-stifled gripes after Kauffman Stadium was remodeled?

What matters is what the people in and around Kansas City think about the sport (and thought about the contest) in a global sense. And for the most part, people are far from centered enough to comprehend the two-tiered concept that would make an NHL franchise successful in Kansas City for the second time: single-game and season tickets.

With the September the Kansas City Royals have produced, and with the start to the season the Kansas City Chiefs have not, folks on Twitter and on the radio are rolling out the old this-is-a-baseball-town carpet for the first time in a while. That's fine. It very well may be. Folks continue to purchase mildly significant numbers of season tickets, and, by and large, single-game tickets are something that many, many Kansas City families have always invested in and will continue to do so because this is a game on which our country was raised.

In the '90s, Kansas City was mad-scientist crazy for the Chiefs. The team was good, and fans had not had that experience in over two decades, if ever. Throughout most of the Herman Edwards regime, attendance at Arrowhead fell to talks-of-blacked-out-games for the first time since the '80s. And that's an American sport with a franchise with over four decades rooted in Kansas City. What, then, would make anyone think that, in the event the NHL grants Kansas City a franchise (Editor's Note: They're not going to, plain and simple.), this town would support it?

I'm embedded in the Kansas City hockey community. I know guys that run the youth programs, I know rink managers, I volunteer for the Mavericks, and I've played with the majority of adult rec-league skaters for over a decade. Even in that community, even in the form of a company owner who was a significant sponsor for last night's game, are people that think Kansas City has to continue to turn out large numbers, if not sell them out, for these exhibition contests because that translates to league awareness.

In the end, they don't matter. Not one bit. Mostly they don't matter because the league is not going to award the city a franchise, or even promote it as a locale for a club that's interested in relocation. There's simply not enough confidence to suggest that the city could support it.

So attendance last night broke the record by 500 heads. How many of those people were given free tickets? How many of those people were bombarded by package deals presented by NHL 21 and companies like QuikTrip who had the $99 four-pack (tickets, sandwiches, etc.)? How many people had die-hard NHL-in-KC fans buy tickets and take their friends free of charge in hopes of hooking them on the in-game experience?

The answer: a lot.

What's more, of the families in attendance, most of them, by both sight and sound, were cheering for the Penguins. These kids had signs and cheers and no, you couldn't swing a dead cat without hitting a Sidney Crosby jersey. How many of these fans were aware (of the slim chance) that Crosby might not play again? How many of these kids are aware that team owner Mario Lemieux used this very venue as leverage for his own new building in Pittsburgh? And how many kids are aware of the surprise run that the Kings just displayed this past post-season? That club was the bigger (of the two) story in the playoffs.

The answer: not many.

Regarding the Crosby thing, it's of course good for the game that in Kansas City people know who he is, but what they don't know is that the clubs they saw on the ice last night were two and three tiers removed from those that the Pittsburgh and L.A. franchises will put out on the ice each night this season. For Dennis Dodd to call that a "thoroughly entertaining preseason game" is silly.

That game was mostly flat, full of turnovers, and bereft of true NHL talent. What's more is that there was zero appeal or investment to actually root for a team you come out and support 41 times a year. And the fans in attendance were representative of said lack of appeal.

They were there for novelty. They chatted with their kids and their friends, fiddled around with their phones, asked questions about the game to those around them, and blindly cheered on the Penguins. Since when do Kansas Citians cheer for eastern-conference teams?

While folks remain enamored with the new Kansas City-hockey-attendance record, the one truth that's been written is that many seats were empty. Folks were strolling around, perhaps waiting in lines for concessions -- an easy fix if a franchise actually did come to town -- perhaps trying to entertain their uninterested children, and leaving early in packs of significant numbers.

Last night and this morning, people were posting things of the following nature on Facebook: this pointless story, this dumb picture

I call dumb only because I'm sure thousands cheered the Pittsburgh victory, and my favorite photo caption of all, "Don't have a clue what I'm watching, but it's fun!!!"

As for ourselves, we left at the conclusion of the second period solely because of our nine-month-old in tow (Note: Yes, that'd be her pictured above the jump.), and the fact that it was over an hour past her bedtime. We went, though, because we wanted to see how good the Sprint Center ice-hockey experience looked. For the record, it looked great. The ice appeared to be in good shape, the event had plenty of intermission entertainment, and all the perks of a pro-sports event. They were each a touch rough around the edges, but like the entry lines and the concessions, easy fixes. In sum, though, The Sprint Center didn't blow it.

What's not an easy fix is the current state of possible NHL franchise relocation, let alone expansion. By and large, clubs are staying put, and none will soon call Kansas City home.

You may, if you choose, continue to direct your negative energy toward Leiweke and AEG, or you could look at the positive: Kansas City did not build a tax-payer-funded venue that sits empty and aging, and its downtown revitalization has not been a failure, both of which were distinct possibilities voters feared five and six years ago.

If you're going to crease your forehead over hockey in Kansas City, however, your energy is better spent being compassionate with the unchangeable facts about the National Hockey League, and even more so, recognizing that Kansas City might be a baseball town. It might be a football town. Heck, for all we know, it's a soccer town. One thing is for sure, though, and that's that a hockey town it is not.

If it wants to become one, there's a ton of growth that needs to happen first, and it's the kind of growth that has zero to do with chances and promises.
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Getting To Know Your 2010 U.S. Men's Olympic Hockey Team: Brooks Orpik

The defensive-minded posts are writing themselves, so it would seem. Some American hockey, California-native style, just over the link.

Brooks Orpik plays for the Pittsburgh Penguins. He will turn 30 this September, and is in his seventh NHL season. The Pens nabbed him in the 2000 NHL Draft, with the 18th pick in the first round. In that time he (Editor's Note: By the way, he is likely the favorite olympic player of The Lone Reader. Remember that guy? Yeah. Pens fan. What other NHL team would a Kansas City native -- married to a gal from Ohio -- that lives in Canada fresh off of a move from Maine root for besides Pittsburgh?) has totalled 72 points, a -14 plus/minus, an impressive 511 PIMs, and nearly 8000 minutes of ice time. Orpik spent his college days as a Boston College Eagle, and the left-handed-shooting defenseman is an alternate captain along with Evgeni Malkin and Sidney Crosby, which, as company goes, is pretty decent. We'll see how well this Penguin patrols the blue line and blocks shots once the international competition is in his grill. From the looks of this clip, he ain't half bad:


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Baseball In The Daytime: 14 August 2009

As we reach the home stretch of the baseball season, we can dispense with the hedges and qualified maybes that we've trafficked in all year. You can't say "It's early" or "We'll see" or "If they stay healthy" anymore, those ships have sailed. No, these team photographs are fully developed, and as Bill Parcells once so insightfully observed, "You are what your record says you are."

A few things we have learned, as well as our lone day game (with bonus Most Wanted updates) after the jump...

For quite some time the American league has clearly been the superior of the two in baseball. The AL has bested the Senior Circuit in interleague play six years running, although the split has narrowed since the Americans posted a preposterous 154-98 mark in 2006. We all know about the AL's unbeaten streak in the All-Star Game, which runs back to 1997. And although the results of the World Series have actually been pretty even this decade (the AL holds a 5-4 edge since 2000), three of the Americans' championships have come via sweeps, and two of the Nationals' triumphs have come at the hands of the choketastic Yankees.

All that being said, you could make an argument that the NL has closed most of the gap in quality of baseball, and has surpassed the AL in terms of watchability and interest for the pennant races. The best teams still reside in the Junior Circuit--the Yankees are probably baseball's top club, the Angels are right there as well, and the Rangers, Red Sox, Bay-Rays and Tigers would all be dominant teams if they were moved to the NL.

What the Nationals have as an edge on their siblings is a vastly superior middle class, as well as four real races that should run right to the end of the season. Go beyond your division leaders (the Dodgers, Cards and Phillies) and you find some really good teams--the Cubs are deep and dangerous, the Braves, Marlins and Giants have outstanding starting pitching, and the Rockies have the best balance of any sub-$100 million payroll in the game.

In fact, let's spend a few minutes with these Rockies. It might have been Rob Neyer or some other baseball blogger that said six weeks ago that Colorado was two veteran relievers away from being an excellent team. That stuck with me, because it was entirely true--the Rox had just lost lefty Alan Embree to a broken leg and former closer Manny/Manuel Corpas to season-ending elbow surgery. The pen was a M*A*S*H unit of castoffs, never-weres, kids and Quad-A drifters. No matter how effective the rotation continued to be or how many runs the lineup continued to drive home, there was no way this team could continue to win with such a porous and unreliable bullpen.

Then Dan O'Dowd, who's forcing me believe is actually competent with every passing day, went out and got Rafael Betancourt and Joe Beimel. In neither trade did he yield more than a B-grade prospect, and only Beimel is on the books for next year. These are excellent trades, the kind of deals O'Dowd has never made in the past. He took advantage of a buyer's market and did exactly what he needed to improve his team's (already good) chances to make the postseason without crippling the club long-term.

Unless Jorge De la Rosa or Jason Marquis suddenly start pitching like Jorge De La Rosa or Jason Marquis, this team has the pitching, the bullpen, the defense and the lineup to craft another Rocktober marketing opportunity. Of particular note has been the development of Carlos Gonzalez, a key piece in the Matt Holliday trade. Gonzalez looked overmatched at the plate during spring training, and his call-up looked like a wasted move as he burned at-bat after at-bat with a free-swinging and haphazard approach. Something has clicked in the kid since the All-Star break, however. Gonzalez' July OPS was .860, and in the month of August he's gone .424/.459/.758 while playing every game but one. He's seeing the ball very well, and of course he delivers incredible defense and baserunning speed whether he's hitting or not. Carlos Gonzalez is the kind of X-factor player that playoff teams invariably have on their rosters.

But back to Chicago, where we have allegedly caught the Beer-Throwing Bandit. I don't buy it, seems like a patsy to me. If Jack Ruby shows up at the arraignment and guns down this "John Macchione" then I'm implicating Banky and the Hunt family in a vast right-wing conspiracy. Don't we have a game today?

Pittsburgh @ Chicago Cubs, 12:20 Mountain The Pirates visit the Felonious Confines, as Charlie Morton and Randy Wells lock horns in a game to be witnessed live by forty thousand drunken louts. Outfielders may want to don their Gore-Tex long johns should this game get out of hand. Stay dry out there, and Play Ball!
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Historically Speaking: Seen Yer Rye Tir

Every once in a while, the news moves me. On most of those occasions, that news is coming from the sports section of a newspaper or a Web site. I woke this morning, and before I'd had my first sip of coffee, felt the peculiar mix of multi-faceted tears well in my eyes. And that came from reading Joe Posnanski's column in The Kansas City Star. Funny thing is, I'm typically so devoid of regular news consumption, that I can't compare the feeling to, well, anything. It's an odd situation, in that there won't be a massive hole, per se, but I don't know that tomorrow, or any day hereafter, I'll ever open the paper again in the same way.

But let's not get too sappy. There's more boring stuff to read, post-jump.

* We go back to 1921 and celebrate a marriage of Steak and Cheese to Pedophiles-- I mean pierogies, as the first play-by-play broadcast of a baseball game was done. Harold Arlin had the honors in calling the Philly-Pittsburgh contest.

* In 1955 on this day, White Sox Manager Marty Marion gave second baseman Nellie Fox the day off after 274 straight starts. Following his brief respite, Fox would start another 798 consecutive games.

* Today in 1967, professional football in America saw a first as the Denver Broncos beat the Detroit Lions 13-7, marking the first American Football League victory over an NFL team.

* The year was 1979 when MLB's Hall of Fame opened the doors to three new inductees: Hack Wilson, Warren Giles, and a fellow by the name of Willie Mays.

* Twenty-nine years ago today New York Met Doug Flynn tied an MLB record as he cracked three triples in one game.

And your Sports Illustrated quote of the day came from the mouth of...



...former Cleveland Browns offensive tackle Doug Dieken who, in 1984, was asked how he imagines he'll be remembered post-retirement. His response: "Holding...No.73."
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Historically Speaking: 7-1-09

We're keepin' her brief this morning, as the fantastical duties of work beckon. That doesn't mean there isn't homework, though. Study up.

* Frank Owen, Chicago White Stocking hurler, tossed two complete games in one day, on July 1, 1905. Cincinnati Redleg Fred Toney achieved the same feat 12 years later.

* On the first day of July 1975, Muhammad Ali beat Joe Bugner via a unanimous decision in Malaysia. The victory was Ali's third title defense since claiming the championship from George Foreman in October of '74.

* The year was 1982 when a fella by the name of Cal Ripken began playing shortstop for the Baltimore Orioles.

* In perhaps a fit of irony, the National Basketball Association locked out its players twice on this day in history: The first work stoppage in league history was in 1995; the second occurred three years later to the day.

* Today in 1996 the Winnipeg Jets officially became the Phoenix Coyotes, which may or may not have been a really bad decision.

And your Sports Illustrated quote of the day came from the mouth of...



...one-time Pittsburgh Steeler quarterback Cliff Stoudt, who, in 1980, was promoted from third string to second. His comment: "I've graduated from clipboard to headset."
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Ladies & Gentlemen, Your 2009 Stanley Cup Champion Pittsburgh Penguins

What a game. I was in the pisser for the first goal, which I'm told was preceeded by a non-call icing, but what can you do. The Wings gave it their all and thoroughly dominated the second half of both the second and third periods. Had it not been for Marc-Andre Fleury's consecutive saves in under four seconds in the third, this game would've gone to overtime.



Congratulations are in order to the city of pedophiles, Mario Lemieux, the Penguins franchise, and the Lone Canadian Reader, whose boycott of the House of Georges means we can make fun of him without limit.

(photo courtesy of Sports Illustrated; video thanks to the NHL)
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The Quest for the Cup: The HoG's 2009 Stanley Cup Finals Preview

We've made it, at last, to the Stanley Cup Finals, and I've waited 'til the last minute to write about it for a number of reasons: 1) I've been all-around horrible on making predictions this post-season, 2) the last thing I wanted was a repeat of last year's finals, and 3) the last time I put together a hockey post, all hell broke loose, which is vaguely reminiscent of our playoff-hockey commentary from a year ago. All of that aside though, one thing's for certain: This is going to be a fantastic series. You have the best of both worlds in terms of complete hockey teams, competing for the title. In Detroit, Mike Babcock's core of gritty, experienced veterans look to defend the championship in what will likely be the final season for the 47 year-old Chris Chelios. In Pittsburgh, you have the most impressive nucleus of young players that could very well be moving into The Sprint Center a dynasty mode if they can knock off the ferocious Red Wings. Enjoy minimal analysis and a couple of clips after the jump.



I hate Detroit. They're a division rival to my St. Louis Blues, and they're always fucking stacked. Always. I've grown to appreciate them, however, as a franchise that perennially makes the right moves. And they named their building after Joe Louis, which is pretty cool.



Problem is, I also hate Pittsburgh. I lived with Flyers fan for several years and grew to like them quite a bit, and the Pens have handled Philly in consecutive post-seasons now. Plus, I thought it would be cool for Ovechkin and the Capitals to knock off the defending Eastern Conference champs, but so much for that.



I've also tried pretty hard to hate the non-NFL, non-MLB teams that The Lone Reader roots for, so I'm obligated to not pull for the Pens. And I'm still bitter at Mario for his shenanigans with Kansas City and the whole leverage-for-our-new-building ploy, but who am I to hold a grudge. Not really. I got mad respect for Lemieux, and it would've been weird to have Pittsburgh's club move here.

Anyway, the puck drops in just over an hour, and I've got two points to make.

First, the Penguins have been incredible these playoffs. They've repeatedly surprised me with their poise, and impressed me with a cohesiveness I wasn't willing to give them credit for. Kudos to them for that. I don't, however, think that Pittsburgh, or anyone else for that matter, can or will stop the Wings. They are, as usual, just too darn good. The one thing standing in their way, though is their health. Detroit is an older club and they've got some injury issues to deal with early in the series. Along with Kris Draper, one time Saturday Studmuffin Pavel Datsyuk will be out for game one, and they've got a couple of other guys that aren't exactly 100 percent.

So the Penguins could build some early momentum and take game one at the Joe, which was a difficult place for them to play last year. In fact, I think they were shutout in the first two contests. I envision a late surge from Detroit, though, if that happens, and think that they repeat, moments before Chelios hangs up the skates.

The pick: Wings in seven

(Editor's Note: It's incredibly unsexy to pick a series to end in six or seven games. This I know. I just don't see either team folding that early.)

There you have it. Below is the television schedule. Game on!

GAME 1: SAT. MAY 30, PIT @ DET, 8PM, NBC, CBC, RDS
GAME 2: SUN. MAY 31, PIT @ DET, 8PM, NBC, CBC, RDS
GAME 3: TUE JUN 2, DET @ PIT, 8PM, VS, CBC, RDS
GAME 4: THU JUN 4, DET @ PIT, 8PM, VS, CBC, RDS
*GAME 5: SAT. JUN 6, PIT @ DET, 8PM, NBC, CBC, RDS
*GAME 6: TUE JUN 9, DET @ PIT, 8PM, NBC, CBC, RDS
*GAME 7: FRI. JUN 12, PIT @ DET, 8PM, NBC, CBC, RDS
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Baseball in the Daytime: 4-16-09

Twas the second Thursday of the season, when all through the league, some pitchers tossed well, while some showed fatigue. And what to my wondering eyes hath appeared, but some afternoon baseball, the matches all tiered. You get the drift. Your slate, clean and shiny, post-jump.

Marlins @ Braves, 11:10 Central: Our first matchup is one of two pre-nooners, so we gotta hustle. I recommend you try reading this in your best auctioneer's voice. On the hill for the visitors is Anibal Sanchez who's nickname might be "Dirty." Whether it is or not, he's getting his first start of the season after tossing five scoreless innings against Los Mets el otro dia. His right arm will battle the right arm of Kenshin Kawakami, who I think is of Asian descent. He logged a win last week in his first major-league start, but it was against the Nationals, so, toss a grain of salt in that carry-on. Catch what nobody is calling the Floridian Venezuelan-Japanese showdown on DirecTV 721, 722, or on XM 183

Astros @ Pirates, 11:35: In another bout between teams I could't care less for, it's Russ Ortiz on the hill for the Astros, Jeff Karstens for Las Piratas. Whaddayou wanna know? They're both righties, it's Ortiz's first start, and Karstens made the roster by beating out a guy named Virgil, which ain't exactly braggin' rights. DirecTV calls the shots on 723 and 737, while XM weighs ways in on 184.

Indians @ Yankees, 1:05: The pesky Indians escaped from Kansas City with a win yesterday, but they'll really be tested against the Pinstripes, who'll send CheeseburgerCheeseburger Sabathia to the mound. Cleveland calls on Cliff Lee. This will either be a fantastic pitching duel, a realization by all that both guys are overrated, or a good kindergarten-room example of fat versus skinny. The tilt's on DirecTV 724 and 736. Also find it on XM 176.

Cardinals @ Cubs, 1:20: We cap it off with a good old-fashioned, hate-fueled rivalry of the N.L. Central. Adam Wainwright and the Redbirds grapple with lefty Sean Marshall and the Baby Bears. Tune in to DTV 725 or 726, depending on which side of the Miss' you live on, or just have a listen on XM one eight five.

You know the rules: Mask your emotions, act like you're working, and when you slip out for a shot at the bar across the street, leave a shooter for the co-worker that goes "on break" after you.
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Your Obligatory Post-Super-Sunday Post

Alright, alright, DKC. Little game called the Super Bowl happened yesterday. I have in fact heard of it. A couple of pointless thoughts on it after the jump.

1) First and foremost, you have to review that final play. Without question. Even if it's a hail-mary long shot, it's a shot.

2) Gotta feel bad for Kurt Warner. Incredible season.

3) I guess getting busted for weed and showing your dong on the Internet in the same season translates to Super Bowl MVP.

4) I can't decide if yesterday's offensive-coordinator coaching performance has changed my opinion on whether or not Todd Haley becomes the new head coach of the Chiefs.

5) Worst selection of Super Bowl commercials in a long time. Have they been getting worse the last few years?

6) Great freakin' game, though.

7) The first thing I'll do upon arriving home will be to scope the porn that aired during the SB broadcast in Arizona.

8) I read this morning that some have viewed Bruce Springsteen's agreeance to perform at halftime as a sellout. I am in disagreeance with that claim.

9) Prior to this post-season, I only acknowledged the existence of the oft-expressed sentiment that Steelers fans are a giant collection of tools. I now subscribe to the theory. Whole-heartedly.

10) I heard over the weekend that when the Indianapolis Colts won Super Bowl XLI, the team sent the then recently departed Edgerrin James a ring. That's got to be one of the lamest gestures ever.

I have this same predicament every year, and when I figure it out, I never write it down. Perhaps I should start. What is it that we do when football season ends? I enjoy hockey and gearing up for baseball spring training, and the draft isn't that far away, but criminy. Life without football is a step down.
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Saturday Studmuffins: Pittsburgh Steelers Head Coach Mike Tomlin

Were in not for the Iron Triangle's obsession with the professional football clubs in both Kansas City and Denver, Mike Tomlin might very well have taken up a giant amount of cyber column inches here in the House of Georges. And I'll tell you why. We love football. Some of us get erect for some college football action. Some of us flip through the channels while the various games are on. All of us love the NFL. We have said countless times in here that it's far and above -- and I think most of American sports fans would agree -- the best professional sports league around. Has been for years. On the occasions that our teams are eliminated from, or in some cases don't qualify for, post-season contention, we watch the other games pretty religiously. They're exciting, educational, and sometimes offer bandwagon opportunities. Sometimes they're very painful.

For example, last week's Chargers/Steelers contest was an ugly one for Old No. 7, and I would imagine for Cecil, too. They both have very recent reason to loathe both clubs. They hate the Whale's Vagina, and they don't take kindly to Terrible Towel wavers that invade their stadium and win, especially if it's for a conference championship. Now, I found myself in creep mode from late season up until midway through the post-season: I wanted teams I didn't like to knock off teams I hated, then for the teams I didn't like to lose in the next round. Well, now we're down to teams I don't really have much of an opinion on. I'll elaborate:

1) I'm pulling for the Buzzsaw. This franchise might've turned things around, but for decades, they've shown us that they never will. It's quite possible they'll never get another shot if they don't do it now.

2) I've been a bandwagon fan of Philly teams for about ten years. I'm done rooting for the Eagles, though. As far as I'm concerned, they're up their with the early-90s Bills. There should be a picture of their logo next to "mediocre" in the dictionary. Just fucking lose and go home, already.

3) If there's one team I hate the most in the final four, it's Baltimore. I think it has to do with Art Modell and Brian Billick. Frankly, I think those are two of the biggest pricks in the NFL in my lifetime, and by that I don't mean to say that I've stood at the urinals next to theirs. Plus, as much as I've always admired their defense, their offense has almost always been a joke. You know, I get that you want to build a championship defense, but tilt the equation the tiniest bit so that you can be half a notch above managing the game when you have the ball. Plus, I really thought Tennessee was going to win last week. My bet is that the Steelers absolutely smoke the Ravens.

4) This brings me to my point. When Old No. 7 wrote this post, it was kind of defining yet kind of a shame.

It was defining in that the very first suggestion of his was to make this blog the black coaches blog. We probably recognized how scarce material would be, and moved on. It was kind of a shame because his piece The Ten Worst Black Coaches In NFL History was a priceless gem. It was original in thought, and funny, in that side-splitting kind of way. The best part about it was that it was based on facts, absent of racism. He now calls the piece "hopelessly outdated." I disagree.

There were names in this post, some of which included Tony Dungy, Art Shell, Dennis Green, Herman Edwards, perhaps even Lovie Smith and Marvin Lewis were on there. I don't remember all 10 names, and the fact that this thing vanished into the black hole of some fantasy-baseball message board really pisses me off. It doesn't matter, though. I can't really say what the author's point (if anything beyond humor) was in writing it. I had one as a reader, and it was this: For every ounce of criticism thrust upon football for not having enough black coaches, for every minority-candidate regulation the league creates because of said criticism, there are 100 ounces of evidence showing that, for the most part, black coaches are pretty darn bad.

Hang on a minute. I know what you're going to do. You're firing up your Power Point presentation on the Bloach Bukkake that was the Lovie/Dungy Super Bowl. I'm asking you to sit tight. The NFL was formed in 1920. Now, I don't know who to deem the official first African-American head coach in the NFL. If it's Fritz Pollard, then he became such in 1921. One could say that it's Art Shell, and probably have a better argument. In 1989, Shell was hired, and a few short years later, Green was on the scene. Both those guys, despite stigmas attached to them in recent years, were pretty darn successful. Shell made the playoffs in three of his seven years coaching. Green made it eight of 13 times. Green also made it his first three consecutive years, appearing in two conference championships to Shell's one.

Fast forward to 2006. Expect ludicracy and accusations.

I think the hype over Super Bowl XLI was really unfortunate. Prior to that year, no bloach had ever made the Super Bowl, or obviously won one. But cue grand ol' 2006, and lo and behold, there's one representing each conference, a guaranteed winner, a day to remember for centuries to come. Not only have we never commemorated any other fill-in-the-blank American for being the first of his heritage to make the Super Bowl, we never will, and that's a problem, but not one I'm going to explore today, or probably ever. But God in heaven shower this racist land with fiery bolts of torture if we don't mention the AA factor a solid 1700 times minimum. My point, though, is that those two guys, just because they made the big game, aren't necessarily the best bloaches ever. They are in fact, pretty darn choketacular when it comes to huge games.

Let's have a look at that post-season:

AFC
On the last Sunday of the regular season, Kansas City had to win at home, they needed Tennessee to lose at home to New England, the Steelers to beat the Bengals in Cincinnati, and they needed the 49ers to beat the Broncos in Denver. They also needed six point three winning Lotto tickets, nine rabbits feet, and a bowl of Lucky Charms with chocolate milk in it. They got it, and the Chiefs travel to Indy to face the Colts. This is basically Herman Edwards, in his first year in KC, backing in to the post-season with Dick Vermeil's team, and he, in true Gannon-Grbac fashion, ruins any chance of winning by benching the hot hand, and starting the still-woozy-from-concussion Trent Green. Not only do the Chiefs -- who netted eight points in that game -- not get a first down until the third quarter is halfway over, but Edwards, Dungy, and Smith are spotted dining with one another the previous evening. Heard from a neighboring table at that restaurant was, "After tomorrow, you gon' owe me one, Tony."

I might've made that up, but plug Denver or Tennessee into that contest, and you've got a better team and a better coach, making the road a much different one for the Colts. A week later they travel to Baltimore and face a Ravens team that actually manages to score fewer points than the Chiefs did against the Colts. In the conference championship, the Colts finally have a worthy opponent in Tom Brady and the New England Patriots, a quarterback and a club that had historically owned Peyton Manning and the Colts. In an amazing game, Dungy's club gets the edge by four, and advances.

NFC
In the Nobody Freakin' Cares side of things, the Saints knock off the (as mentioned) always choketastic Eagles by a field goal in the Wildcard round, while the Seahawks, courtesy of the infamous Romo blunder, advance past Dallas to face the Bears, only to lose by a field goal. The Bears of course make easy work of New Orleans, bringing us to the championship Bloachfest known as the Dungy-Smith showdown. Obviously, there are unique circumstances in every game, especially in the post-season. I'm of the opinion that the road paved by destiny for that Super Bowl was one of bizarre fate and circumstance, leaving an asterisk on the legend of the black-coach page in history's annals. And I wrote all of that to say this:

Mike Tomlin is the real deal.

The Pittsburgh Steelers are the most well-rounded, tough, physical team the NFL playoffs have seen in a long, long time, and I seriously doubt that any of these three other teams left could stop them if they faced them head to head. For this, I give Tomlin all of the credit.

Of course he inherited a great Bill Cowher-coached team, but he has followed that course of success and created a monster. Old No. 7 once said that Tony Dungy is one of the best Monday-Saturday coaches in the history of the game, but come Sunday he's somewhere beneath mediocre. Seven is also steadfast in the theory that an excellent quarterback is crucial to winning championships, and I don't disagree with him there. Thus, with Manning under center -- which all but makes an offensive coordinator obsolete -- Dungy appears to be great. Naturally, numbers don't lie, and Dungy's record is beyond impressive. Between Tampa and Indianapolis, he made the playoffs 11 of 13 times, won six division championships and a Super Bowl. He retired with a 139-69 record, though a 9-10 post-season record.

Through five years, Lovie Smith is 45-35, with two division titles and a conference championship. He is on pace -- were he to coach as long as Dungy -- to win fewer games and lose 30 percent more than Dungy. Tomlin has been a head coach for two seasons. He is 22-10, and batting 1.000 at division championships. He's on pace to shatter Dungy's record of what you might call the winningest black coach in NFL history. He has all the makings of an excellent coach: an impressive record, a balanced team, talent, sideline poise and enthusiasm, plus gameday smarts mixed with situational intelligence. I posit that no black coach to date has matched that arsenal.

Like I said, though, I'm pulling for Arizona, since they're the sleeper/Cinderella, and I appreciate how tough their defense has played through two rounds of playoff football. Should something besides a Steeler championship occur, I won't feel bad for Tomlin. I have a hunch he'll be around for a long while, and go down in the books as the best bloach in our lifetime.
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Friday Morning Fracas: 11-21-08

On Wednesday, Jason Whitlock of The Kansas City Star wasted column space defending what he'd written about Tyler Thigpen being the Chiefs' backup quarterback of the future in another recent column. Yesterday, it was Adam Teicher's job to report that Derrick Johnson is healthy, likely to start at outside linebacker on Sunday at Arrowhead versus the Bills. Today, it was Kent Babb's, or Sea Pappy's turn to include a token Chiefs article, the topic of his the helmet-installed, defensive-player earpieces that Defensive Coordinator Gunther Cunningham and secondary coach David Gibbs use during practice and games, respectively. Each piece in the paper is good in its own regard. What's not, though, is that these are the things we're talking about: 1) backup QBs and why, 2) linebackers and the good ones the Chiefs have cut, and 3) technology and the profanity sometimes conveyed by it. These, in lieu of eye-widening stats, primetime game broadcasts, and winning are what our writers are writing, and we are reading.

I'm not so certain that readership is interested in those stories, and I don't say that to harp on Star Sports Editor Holly Lawton, or the writers themselves. No. This is where I return to my anti-Herm stance. In press conferences this week, Herm Edwards has given the public his stance regarding November-and-beyond on-the-field performances with this -- and I paraphrase -- uttering: At this point in the season, it's on the players to get the job done; there's not much more we as coaches can do.

Awesome. Really, that's great stuff, Herm. I've actually heard this sentiment from him before, like roughly around late November way back in 2007, when the Chiefs were in the middle of a 9-game slide. It's all on the players, though. Got it. Well, what about in the beginning of the season? You know, that three-game skid and the five-game streak that flanked your team's one win in the last 13 months? That all on the players, too? You know, I've stood up for Chiefs GM Carl Peterson, and expressed why I think he won't be fired, which is not the same as suggesting that he should or shouldn't be retained. And I've spent plenty of time taking digs at Edwards for what I can only call ineptitude. At this point, all I want is some accountability. Can (or will) anybody in this organization take responsibility for the non-awesome that is this team?

In the other wing of this House, it's BroncoMania. Sort of. I mean, at least Denver fans have some positives to look at, like the prospect of having their number-one pick garner some Pro Bowl consideration, or the fact that the roll they're on right now could cause the club to be fearful of overlooking an inferior opponent. Must be nice.

In non-Chiefs/Broncos news, though Major League Baseball Commissioner Bud Selig has announced a rule change that will prevent something that has never happened in MLB history. Nice work, Bud.

As for last night's NFL game, With Leather points out that Cincinnati's T.J. "Houshmandzadeh took over #1 wide receiver duties by catching four passes for 20 yards. Thank you very little, asshole." I assume the author started Housh' in his fantasy league, and I'll add to that with this. Dear Pittsburgh Steelers Football Club: Please fuck off and die. No really. Fuck off. And die. Not only did your mistakenly called non-touchdown lose me the game last week, but your coveted defense and ace tailback Willie Parker netted me 20 points in a game that, you know, I'm facing a division rival WITH WHOM I'M TIED. For Christ's sake, Willie, fill your Gatorade bottle with oxycodone and get the fuck back on the field. It's snowing. You're at home. Carry the ball for more than, let's say, 37 yards. And hey, while you're at it, pay the ol' end zone a visit, would ya'? To every fantasy owner that ever said having the 12th of 12 picks in a snake-formatted draft, I invite you over for a dip in my salmonella jacuzzi. It's lovely this time of year.

Like the NBA? Have a look at some of its handsomest fellas.

(courtesy of Blaze of Love, via the Big Lead)

Alright, back to Broncos-related biz. The Smoking Section links to Black Voices, who has a story on former Denver running back Travis Henry. We all know Henry's stories by now, but given everything that has happened to him, it either is or isn't a surprise to you that he "thinks his child support is too high." Denver Louis, the author of the piece wonders if Henry might "think twice before he pops out number 10." For some reason, I kinda doubt it.

Three Idiots on Sports connects to a report of a hookah-smoking lounge that, uh, didn't have its fire extinguishers mounted accessibly enough.

And finally, Joe Sports Fan runs a feature called Top 7. Today's installment is called "Worst Athlete Bodies." Pretty funny stuff.

Drop by the House later on. We'll be bringing some Friday fiction, and maybe even some "Sleeping with the Enemy." Or, we might just start knocking back some of these:



Ya' never know.
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Tuesday Tantrum: Un-Sacktacular

Yesterday, the TalkRadios hammered the Chiefs, investigating every aspect of this club that is just plain wrong. Today, the paper has done the same, and with a narrower scope, Adam Teicher of The Kansas City Star points out one glaring void: the pass rush. There isn't really a lot to report in this regard. As part of a non-competitive club that occasionally scores some points, re-invents losing on a weekly basis, consistently displays a perfect what-not-to-do-on-special-teams model, and gets burned by offenses good, bad, and mediocre, the non-pressure Kansas City's front four has put on opposing quarterbacks is only one ingredient in the recipe titled "Terrible."

But, if you really want the sage and cinnamon of this fall unclassic, here they are:

1) The Chiefs have netted six sacks through 10 games. A handful of teams have done better than that on their bye weeks, I think.

2) Teicher points out that "Sixteen individuals, including former Chief Jared Allen, have more than six sacks." In case you English no good, that's almost 20 dudes with more than the entire Chiefs D.

3) From the same article: "The next lowest team is Cincinnati with 11." The Bengals, the one-win, Marvin Lewis Farmhouse is next higher on the list, and their total almost doubles that of KC's.

4) More Teicher: "The mark for a 16-game season is 13, set by Baltimore in 1981, and the Chiefs at their current pace won't even get to 10." With six games left, the Chiefs' chances at not breaking that record look about even-keel with John Madden boarding a plane.

5) Head Coach Herm Edwards discusses last year's league-leading sack total by Allen (Editor's Note: He has eight so far in 2008), who, as we know, missed two games: "He was with us last year and he got (15 1/2) sacks, and we still went 4-12," Edwards said. "We got better at a lot of positions through that trade...It worked out well for both parties."

Yes, Herm. It did. The difference, though, is that up in the NFC North, those teams are playing to win the game more often than four times. Your club, good sir, hasn't even come close to 4-12.

In other news, I'm not a betting man, therefore, I couldn't give two shits about what bettors lost due to Sunday's officiating debacle. But what about my fucking fantasy team, you dillholes? (Note: We'll pretend for a moment that fantasy football and betting on football are nothing shy of polar opposites.) My season is one Grand Canyon pebble away from vanishing into the Colorado River. Yes. I entered last night's game with a lead, and yes, I thought for sure I'd lose seeing as how my opponent had Brady Quinn and Lee Evans. Guess what? Quinn put up an ocho; Evans a fucking goose egg. And yes, I had the fucking Steelers D. I hope, SD/Pitt officiating crew, that you all choke on your whistles, and are beaten with terrible towels. Thanks for fucking blowing my playoff chances, you ass clowns.
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Baseball in the Daytime: 9-4-08

Thursday delivers a trio of daytime baseball, and we're pleased to tell you that not a one of the six teams stands a chance of making the playoffs. Okay. Well, the Angels might make it in on a wing, a prayer, and 40 Halos, but nobody's paying attention to west-coast baseball right now. Are they? I mean, aside from the Dodgers, Diamondbacks, and Angels, of course. For the purposes of today, however, the baseballing will take place in middle America, where the humidities of summers have vanished, if only temporarily, into the chills and mists of early September.

Pittsburgh @ Cincinnati, 11:35 (Central): Today's first feature takes us to Great American Ball Park, where the home starter is none other than the 2-7 Josh Fogg. His right arm is slated to battle the left arm of the visiting Tom Gorzelanny and his 6-9 record. These two teams are playing for something not called October baseball, as together they are 48 and-a-half games behind the NL Central leaders. The contest, nevertheless, can be seen on DirecTV 722, and heard on XM 189.

Los Anaheim @ Detroit, 12:05: Our second game takes us to the Motor City, where veteran cockmunch Kenny Rogers dons the home uni for the Tigers, and Ervin Santana gets the nod for the Halos. Rogers hopes to make one more stride towards a .500 season, while Santana seeks win number 15. Catch this one on 723 or 724, DirecTV-style, or listen in on XM's 178.

Oakland @ Kansas City, 4:10: And our final tilt today is part one of a double-header, as yesterday's relentless KC rains continued to fall all through the evening, night, and are actually still falling as I type. Should it let up in time for Dan Meyer and Kyle Davies to take the mound this evening, I'll be surprised, let alone for Dana Eveland and Brian Bannister this afternoon. Either way, both clubs are buried in their respective divisions, Oakland still far from the basement with a nice cushion of Seattle Mariner beneath them.

Those are your day games today, baseball fans. Get out to the park, or tune in for your broadcasts with vigor. Let them players know that no one cares about the Giants or the Redskins.
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Baseball In The Daytime: 8-27-08

A trio of day games are perched on today's MLB slate, but the bigger news is out of the bag: Instant replay starts tomorrow. That's right, tomorrow. Not at the start of next year. Not with a trial period in Double-A or the Instructional League. Today's games will be the last wholly governed by humans, and tomorrow we deputize the machines for assistance.

Look, I'm not anti-replay. I like technology. Like Reggie White once said, give the Japanese a toaster and they'll give you a watch. And I like getting calls right, and I hate dismissing good ideas in the name of asinine traditions. But who, other than the Clinton wing of the Democratic Party, tries to change rules in the middle of a season? How is that possibly a good idea? How is it that umpires, who don't like this adjustment and who weren't consulted in its implementation, will manage replay with any sort of skill on the fly? How will they not botch more calls now than with the old system?

I predict that this season is fucked on this front. This will affect the pennant race and this will affect the playoffs. At this point I don't know the specifics of this change--once I get filled in I'm sure I'll have many more thoughts. But for now, Bud, this overreaction gets a fat thumbs down from this fan. On to the games...

Chicago Cubs @ Pittsburgh, 10:35 Mountain I don't know what the weather's going to be like in the Steel City today, but let's assume the forecast calls for glorious. If you're in Western PA, you can make your way downtown and to PNC Park to take in a matinee against the first-place Cubs. You can shell out twenty bucks (what the average Pittsburgher clears in a week) for a seat and twenty more for some peanuts, Cracker Jack and a brew. You can sit in the sunshine and watch the game languidly unfold before you. And then you can realize that you are in Pittsburgh and you have more than a fourth grade education, and you can get the fuck out of there before the dumb and the fat infect you. Jason Marquis and Zach Duke are your starters.

Arizona @ San Diego, 1:35 On the other hand, if you live in San Diego, you can fuck off. Seriously. No one likes you. D'Bags starter Randy Johnson doesn't like you, although he's pretty grouchy with everyone. Padres pitcher Cha Seung Baek doesn't like you--he'll only live in your fair city for a few more weeks before being shipped to yet another club. I don't like you. Brian Giles likes you, but only because he's so enthralled by your beautiful city he refuses to play anywhere else. Go to hell, San Diego.

Minnesota @ Seattle, 2:40 The AL Central has just turned into a God damned dogfight. Daily hand-to-hand combat. With Detroit's complete implosion, only the Twins and the White Sox are left standing, and Chicago's fine play of late leaves them two games free as of press time. Minnesota tries to stay close with Glen Perkins on the Safeco mound today opposite Ryan Feierabend. Seattle is still playing hard, for one reason and one reason only. They're on pace to be the first team ever to lose 100 games with a payroll in excess of $100 million. You can do it, Mariners. 82 down, 18 to go. Stay strong and resolute in your commitment to losing, and Play Ball!
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Baseball In The Daytime: 8-18-08

It may be easy to forget about baseball, what with the Olympics and preseason football and that wicked case of crabs you caught over the weekend, but it's still here. Yup, for another month and a half, plus playoffs! Now if you think baseball is boring, that may be a bad thing. But if you're an intelligent individual that appreciates the graceful nuance of scratching nuts and spitting, rejoice.

We have a pair of reacharounds on tap, so take a good firm grip and pull...

NY Mets @ Pittsburgh, 10:35 Mountain Back in 1898 the USS Maine sank in Havana Harbor, precipitating the Spanish-American War that made both Teddy Roosevelt and a young private named John McCain famous. Some years later, John Maine was born in Parts Unknown, USA (actually Virginia).

Today Maine (John, not USS) takes the hill against Paul Maholm and the Pittsburgh Pirates. His Mets are aiming for a sweep of this four-game set and their seventh straight win overall. It's no coincidence that their recent hot streak has coincided with Maine's removal from the disabled list. Remember the Maine, To Hell with Spain (and Maholm)!

San Francisco @ Atlanta, 2:30 There are no foreign war entanglements associated with this contest, starting pitchers Barry Zito and Jorge Campill are both pacifists. Zito knows all the words to Afternoon Delight, however, and Campillo is really good at the card game Uno. Today's baseball trivia has been brought to you by Lucky Strikes, now with Flavor Crystals! Light 'em up and Play Ball!
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Baseball In The Daytime: 8-11-08

On Saturday night at Coors Field, I had a lot of fun. Even though the home team lost, I got a chance to heckle Brian Giles mercilessly. Giles turned down a deal to the Red Sox last week, passing on a chance to play in the postseason for the first time. He's rather stay in last place. So I called him a bum and a loser and he went 0-for-5. Good times.

Much has been made about Manny Ramirez's actions just before the trade deadline, what many see as him quitting on the Red Sox. Manny was traded to the Dodgers, and all of a sudden he's hitting like crazy, hustling, and his "aching" knees seem perfectly healthy. On Saturday, Buster Olney posted this on his blog:

These are observations made only with the benefit of 20-20 hindsight, and not meant to be a criticism of Bud Selig. Nobody in baseball is conditioned to deal with the possibility that a player might willfully become a cancer on his team in pursuit of a contractual change. But privately, as the smoke has cleared, many folks within the game believe that what might have taken place with Ramirez represents a threat greater to the core tenet of baseball competition than any player ingesting steroids -- "At least those guys were trying to get better for themselves and the team," said one GM -- and perhaps as great as the Pete Rose and Black Sox betting scandals.

Now I'll agree Manny's actions were shameful. Any player that does not appear to give full effort toward winning should be benched, fined and publicly lambasted. But why is there not a similar outcry over what Giles did? Why is choosing to play for a lousy team and spurning a winning one any different than the petulant tantrums of Manny Ramirez?

But that's enough deep thought, let's get to the sunshine hardball...

Pittsburgh @ NY Mets, 11:10 Mountain It's always interesting to see what happens to dominant pitches as they get a little older. Some, like Nolan Ryan, just stay dominant. Some, like The Rocket and The Unit, maintain much of their bite but see their ERAs climb a little and their strikeouts decline. Some, like Kevin Brown, simply go away.

And then you have guys like Pedro Martinez. He was the finest pitcher on the planet at the turn of the millennium, an untouchable artiste. His filthy stuff was matched only by his shocking bravado and Jheri curls. But then Pedro milked one last big contract out of the Mets and fell apart. His starts are less appointments than little surprises--"Hey, Pedro's pitching today." He can barely register 90 on the gun, he tires quickly, and his breaking pitches just sort of roll. It's a little sad, but at least he's out making a living, as opposed to swimming in Kevin Brown's pool full of stolen money. Zach Duke goes up against Pedro today at Shea.

Washington @ Milwaukee, 12:05 As the Brew Crew tries to hold on in both the NL Central and wild-card races, the Nats are playing out the string. Today the start a kid named Garrett Mock. You'd think I would make sport of that handle, but you'd be wrong. Nothing to Mock here. The Brewers go with Dave Bush, whose Spanish name is Arbusto. Play Ball!

Update: Upon doing a little research, I discovered that Brian Giles actually has playoff experience. Quite a bit, matter of fact. He played on the excellent Indians teams that went to the dance from 1996-98, and his Padres snuck in to the NL postseason in '05 and '06. He has a .208 lifetime October average with no homers in 29 games.

My point still stands. If you're satisfied with a career that peaked with four at-bats in the '97 World Series loss to the Marlins, you're playing for the wrong reasons. San Diego is beautiful and its ladies are magnificent. But you can live there in the offseason and live there for the rest of your life. If you're afraid of playing for a good team, you're a loser.
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Baseball in the Trade Time: Snot on the Ball II

Welcome to the inaugural 2nd post of “Snot on the Ball.” Here we will discuss the relevance of our nation’s pastime, the pennant races, trades, farm systems, socio-economic systems, and most of all, why all of this is important. That being said, your author understands the “rough focus” of this blog revolves around a rivalry between the Kansas City Chiefs and the Denver Broncos. Since there appears to be no chance at a Chiefs Super Bowl victory in the next decade, I believe I have been brought aboard to mock and ridicule in the absence of a 2nd Kansas City homer. Thank you for stopping by. Your comments are welcome.

Hello again! This week has been a tremendous stew of rumor and intrigue, hasn’t it? There were manny rumors floating about, mostly concerning the disgruntled Boston Red Sox left fielder Manny Ramirez. According to Old No. 7, this is nothing new. Seven has been a part of the Red Sox Nation since 2003’s tragic “Aaron Fucking Boone” incident, and in his words, “I like Manny, he got us 2 rings, but it may be time to go.” We’ll touch on this later, but first let’s discuss the other moves made in the last 24 hours. Shall we?

First up was the hated New York Yankees. Looking for a steady bat to replace the injured Jorge Posada, the Yanks scored a sweet little deal that almost nobody saw coming. In sending Kyle Farnsworth to Detroit, New York picked up certain Hall of Famer Ivan “Pudge” Rodriguez. This was a surprise to many, and certainly strengthens an already resurgent Yankee squad. Pudge will prove to be a much improved bat over a defensive minded Jose Molina.

The second big trade was made earlier today when the Reds of Cincinnati sent Ken “the Kid” Griffey, Jr. to the Chicago White Sox for two minor leaguers. Surprisingly, the White Sox are expecting the 38 year-old future Hall of Famer to patrol center field at U.S. Cellular Field. The oft-injured Griffey was once the best defensive center fielder in the game, but with age comes brittle ligaments; this should be interesting.

Finally we have the swollen, bulbous, veiny, throbbing, erection that is “The Manny Ramirez Trade Rumors”. Late last night, while I was scanning the sports wire for future stories to cut and paste for your reading pleasure, our Boston Bureau Chief, Old No. 7, sent me a frantic text from deep inside the bowels of Fenway Park. “He pulls this shit every year,” he said. “Manny being Manny is a complete, franchisewide (sic) mindset. If they moved on, got a young bat, and built around Papi & the kids, fine.” Apparently, loafing to first base on infield ground balls, urinating inside the Green Monster during pitching changes, and high fiving fans after catches in left fieEdild is perfectly acceptable behavior for a $20 million franchise player.

Throughout the past 24 hours, I have neglected my wife and young son, scouring all outlets of baseball-related sources to be the first to break the impending blockbuster. The teams rumored to be interested in the services of the immensely talented, but playfully juvenile Dominican were rumored to be the Florida Marlins, the New York Mets, and (not-so-seriously) the Los Angeles Dodgers. The stage was set, my clothing was on the ground, and I was ready to pounce on the first syllable out of Peter Gammon’s mouth as if it were the nymphomaniac love child of Rue McClanahan and Mike Scioscia. Then came this buzzkill from 7 (again): “I’m telling you it’s nothing new. He’s a baby, and every once in a while he throws tantrums. When they don’t trade him, he goes back to mashing like before.”

Boner: gone.

Could this be true? Have I swallowed the hype from the four-letter network, hook, line, and sinker?

Back to the blogwire.

Manny to the Marlins, Jeremy Hermida or Josh Willingham (and some minor leaguers) to the Pirates, Jason Bay to the Red Sox. That was the deal that was supposed to happen anyway. I don’t know the details of why it didn’t work, but today I ate a PB&J while watching the clock expire on trade deadline 2008 without a Manny movement (Editor’s Note: Is that what he calls his dumps?). Seven was right.

Wrong! I don’t know how, but the LA Dodgers (pronounced Los Doy-ers in Humberto’s neck of the woods) somehow managed to swing a biggie. Details as follows: The Dodgers get attention-starved Manny Ramirez from Boston. The Pirates get Andy LaRoche and Bryan Morris from the Dodgers and Craig Hanson and Brandon Moss from Boston. The Red Sox receive the coveted Jason Bay from Pittsburgh. Wowsers. In addition, Boston will pay the remaining $7 million Ramirez is owed this season. Sure smells like Boston wanted to get rid of Manny to me! The ramifications are endless. How will Jeff Kent welcome Manny to the Dodger clubhouse? How will Joe Torre manage this clubhouse? Does LA even care? What will Red Sox Nation do without their patron saint? Was Jason Bay the secret weapon Boston desperately needed to avoid a sweep at the hands of Los Anaheim earlier this week?

React to me, House of Georges. React to me.

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The Quest for the Cup: Ladies and Gentlemen, the Detroit Red Wings

Christ. That headline was so much easier to type a year ago, when the Cup Champions were the Anaheim Ducks. As a fan of the St. Louis Blues, I firmly state that no other fan could possibly hate the Red Wings more, but let's face it: they deserved it. This was, albeit triple overtime is pretty intense, far and away the best game of the finals. Pittsburgh gave it their all, but the Red Wings were the better team in every facet of the game. I'm sure the Lone Reader will find many a reason wrong with my assessment of the game, which is why I'm not going to assess it. I will, however, offer a small photo gallery, after the jump.

Okay. A bit of assessment. The hustle of game six was perhaps the most impressive thing. Again, Detroit dominated the play of both zones; Pittsburgh's scoring chances came in a state of semi-disarray, but they should not be denied credit for putting the rubber in the twine. They simply could not compete, though, with the veteran -- yes, veteran -- force of the 23-cup-bearing Detroit powerhouse. Marc-Andre Fleury played a great game between the Pittsburgh pipes, and anyone that rides his case for the proverbial one that got by is crazy.

Ogsood's play on the other end was equally impressive, and the Detroit D manned the trenches like only they can. They were the President's Trophy winners, and they showed the world why throughout the playoffs. Don't get me wrong: Pittsburgh was impressive. A Finals run -- six games, no less -- always is. This franchise acquired excellent experience by their deep run, and it will pay off, perhaps not next year, but soon. Until then, as much as it pains me, the Red Wings must be recognized as the best club in hockey.



As tradition suggests, the winning goalie's crease is the first place to celebrate.



And of course Phil was on hand, ready with his 'do to deliver the cup.



Nicklas Lidstrom, the Cap-Cap-Cappy, proudly displays his "C" with the commish,



which naturally precedes the first skate with the hardware.



Henrik Zetterberg won the Most Valuable Player for the Finals, the Conn Smythe trophy,



got a moment with the most-important hardware,



and was wanted by the masses for a description of his feelings.



Those who've hoisted before wait a moment for a chance for the youngsters to have their moment, but netminder Chris Osgood waited little time for a chance to skate again with Lord Stanley's trophy.



Personally, I was most happy for Dallas Drake, just as netminder Chris Osgood mentioned that it was Drake for whom he wanted to win. Fifteen years into his career, Drake began as a Red Wing, and traveled to various clubs -- most recently a stint with the Blues -- before returning to Detroit. With new front teeth.



The 46-year-old Chris Chelios tasted glory. Again.



Osgood interviewed with the medias, the fact that he's won three Cups, displayed for the viewers.



Finally, Head Coach Mike Babcock put together the ultimate squad, and they were not to be denied.

And there, folks, are your 2008 Stanley Cup Champions. Rest easy, Cecil. For now. Training camp for '09 starts Tuesday.
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Stanley Cup Finals: Game Two Re-Cap

Call it domination. Call it a mismatch. Call it home-ice advantage. I call it getting smoked. And that's just what happened to the Pittsburgh Penguins when they fell two games to none to the Detroit Red Wings in game two of the Stanley Cup Finals. It's been more than six periods since the Penguins last scored a goal, and if the home-ice edge doesn't sway in their favor tomorrow night, that drought could very well continue. Let's hope they don't jump ship. There's still time for some quality hockey.

I fear, however, that we won't see any. The best way to analyze this series is as such:

Take this from the ground,



unless you're this guy,



in which case you'll probably find it here,



and firmly gouge it here.



It won't look like this,



rather this.



That's right. Mario Lemieux, Michel Therrien, Sidney Crosby, Evgeni Malkin, and the entire Pittsburgh Penguin crew, are finished. They may salvage a game, perhaps two, but there is no way in Hoth they climb out of this monster of an ice hole into which they have fallen. Without doing any research for accuracy, I'll just throw out the friendly reminder that the Red Wings have 23 -- 23! -- championship rings on their roster. Okay. It might be 13. It definitely has a three in it, and it's not three. The Pens are just way too overmatched. Even when they break the scoring drought -- and they will -- the Wings will not back down, and Osgood will not play any worse. Better luck next year, Pittsburgh.
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The Quest for the Cup: HoG's Finals Preview

It's that time of year again. The excitement, agony, anxiety and pride of fighting through an 82-game season and three best-of-seven playoff series are over. Seems like yesterday guys were reporting to camp for pre-season workouts. Now, late in May, the quest for the Cup has reached its acme. Two teams, one shot at the most coveted trophy in professional sports. Like the clip in yesterday's post says, "It weighs 35 pounds, except when you lift it." A look at Michel Therrien's Pittsburgh Penguins and Mike Babcock's Detroit Red Wings, after the jump.

This no doubt is the most difficult prediction post I've written to date. I'm going to examine some of the tangibles from both of these squads, but it, as players frequently say, will all boil down to who gets out there and plays better hockey four out of seven times. Sounds silly, I know. But this is where the overdrive kicks in, where 100% hustle for every loose puck is demanded of every guy on the ice for every second he's out there. This is where, if need be, a defenseman errs on the side of caution, and shows restraint against those tempting opportunities to pinch in along the halfwall. Those defenders must stay at home, never forget the weak side, and deliver crisp outlet passes on every occasion, regardless of the hit that's coming.

This is where wings and centers must continue to cycle in the offensive zone. They must remember to use their points often, and stay moving down low afterwards. This is where using all the ice, especially to gain the neutral zone, will be pivotal. And goalies? Goalies must simply be goalies, and be awarded clear lanes of vision in all instances possible.

This Finals epitomizes experience versus youth. Neither team gets the edge on those identifiers alone. It will be a matter of who better uses their strengths to their advantage when it comes to tilting this series.

The Prince-of-Wales-Trophy-holding Penguins have a sleuth in Therrien as their bench boss. He's emerged from a moderate playing career, and an only mildly-impressive-at-best coaching past to assemble one of the best single-season NHL records in history with last year's 105-point campaign in Pittsburgh. His club, the talk of the league, was filled with potential, a chance to become the next Edmonton Oilers of the 80s and win multiple championships. They bowed out early in the first round, and have achieved the crucial: bottling their potential and exhibiting a marked improvement upon last year's impressive season.

The Penguins are loaded with talents seldom-seen in the league. They have the uber-young, coveted heir to the Gretzky throne in Sidney Crosby. He dons the "C," and leads veterans like Petr Sykora, Marian Hossa, Sergei Gonchar, and Pascal Dupuis. He also leads peers in Evgeni Malkin and Jordan Staal. Throw in the oft-improving netminding of Marc Andre-Fleury and x-factors like (House of) Georges Laraque and Gary Roberts. A guy can't find enough to say about Gary Roberts. In his own way, he's the journeyed version of clutch other sports see in the likes of Derek Jeter, Kobe Bryant, or Tom Brady. If Therrien's Penguins want this Cup, it's theirs for the taking.

Standing in their way, however, are the icons of professional hockey from around the world. Seldom does Detroit put together a less-than-excellent club, but this just might be the best they've skated in a long time. Better, perhaps than the days of the Federov/Yzerman-centered clubs that threw teams around for many years. This Red Wings team, if it can harness all its potential, has the ability to throw around all the talent and leadership in the seemingly unstoppable Pittsburgh Penguins.

Detroit can stop them, but they've faltered in two of their three previous rounds, nearly letting Nashville back in the Quarters, and the Stars in the Conference Finals. Tonight they square off against a Pittburgh club that becomes the 11th squad to reach the Finals with two or fewer losses since 1980. Hockeytown's mix of Czechs, Slovaks, Swedes, Fins, Canadians, and -- yes, even Americans could destroy the Penguins if they choose to take this team seriously.

Aside from the fact that Detroit has Chris Osgood (backed by Dominik Hasek, no less) in net, they're so stacked with champions, it's sickening. Darren McCarty, Brian Rafalski, Nicklas Lidstrom, Kirk Maltby, Tomas Holmstrom, Kris Draper, Pavel Datsyuk, and of course Chris Chelios are the loaded anchors of veteran poise that can command this club's march to victory. Add the youth and flair of Johann Franzen, Valtteri Fillpula, and Henrik Zetterberg, and that's one frightening lineup. Throw in the wit and grit of Mike Babcock, and, from this vantage point, the edge seems in Detroit's favor.

So much so, that I don't think the march of the Penguins down championship road starts here. Not this year. This Goliath is a few notches too deep to be toppled by the spryness of the Davidesque Pittsburgh. Gary Roberts turned 42 yesterday. He's been a staple everywhere he's played. The 46-year-old Chelios knows a thing or two about being a staple. He hoists one more Cup before hanging up the skates.

Having improved to an overall post-season prediction record of 52-32, I'm feeling pretty confident. This championship series could go seven games, all of which include overtime. But it won't. A rejuvenated passion has come alive in the Steel City. Mario's manning the team, Sid the Kid is living up to expectations, and the Igloo will finally be replaced. This could be the end to the 16-year Cup drought in Pittsburgh. But the stakes are too high in Hockeytown. It's been six years since Detroit won a Cup, and they've only won three in the last ten years. Wings in six.
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