Showing posts with label Uninformed Generalities. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Uninformed Generalities. Show all posts

Saturday, July 12, 2008

Stay Classy, Canadia

Not much going on at the joint today, so, hey -- why not make fun of them northern neighbors of ours? Let's get right to it, after the jump.

TheStar.com reports
that Toronto Native Kris Draper (and family) really knows how to "get loose" with the Stanley Cup.

"A week after we won it, I had my newborn daughter in there and she pooped in the Cup," said Draper. "That was something. We had a pretty good laugh.

"It was, well, clean it out. I still drank out of it that night, so no worries."


Filling in as weekend correspondent for the Deadspin clan, Christmas Ape reports that fans enjoyed mocking A-Rod at a baseball game.

Of course eTrueSports has their own take on A-Rodonna.

Speaking of Madonna and potential mates of Hispanic descent, get a load of this. I guess the Orlando Sentinel online got the story here, but Kukla's Corner took it a step further, running images of Madonna and uber-Canadian Mark Messier to see what would happen...if they mated.

Speaking of hockey, Sid over at Two Minutes for Blogging took about two months for blogging (Editor's Note: I have no idea if that's true or not) in June and put together the longest post I have ever seen ever. It's called The Ken Baumgartner Chronicles, and it would appear to chronicle a lot more than the career of one mere athlete. It is massive, and it is full of more hockey fight clips than any Canadian could ever dream of.

Canadian bloggers Small Dead Animals have beat Cecil to the chase regarding an obituary for Tony Snow. They're also taking potshots at Barack Obama.

What will Canadia come up with next?
Read more

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

Ifs, Whens and Other Things We Love That Just Might Kill Us: Bringin' A Knife To A Gunfight; or ex-coNFL Malfeasance

From time to time, the staff of the HoG likes to pool our liquor-bruised opinions into a sort of online argument. We prattle on about all this crap anyway, we might as well make you listen to it, too.

Therefore, we'd like to introduce a little something we call "Ifs, Whens and Other Things We Love That Just Might Kill Us." You can scrutinize the debut installment of this feature on Arrowhead Addict or Predominantly Orange. It was determined to be unanimously savory. This week's topic, however, (get used to it) is the National Football League, or, in this case "The ex-coNFL."






Old No. 7: Tank Johnson was cut by the Bears Monday. He's a good player, but couple his constant legal troubles with NFL Commissioner Roger Goodell's take-no-guff policies and Chicago was in an untenable situation. Now let's assume for a minute that Goodell was going to let Tank play this season, and he's an available free agent. Let's say the Chiefs have a shot at signing him to a contract that is cap-friendly with multiple outs should he repeat his bad behavior. As a fan, do you support the move? What if it were Pac-Man "Adam" Jones, who in my opinion is a much better player (and much crazier brand of miscreant)?



Bankmeister: I'd be into signing Johnson, but only under these circumstances: a) we sign your boy Adam Jones as well; b) we talk Just Give Me the Damn (Redacted) out of "retirement/announcing" and ink a deal with him; c) we send the Houston Texans Larry Johnson in exchange for Andre Johnson, Wali Lundy and Matt Schaub, the latter of which we ship back to Atlanta, along with Damon Huard, which lands us a healthy dose of Ron Mexico; and d) we scoop up the Titans' Albert Haynesworth in exchange for future considerations. That way, on October 14 (which will be -- knock, knock -- my dog's 13th birthday), when the Cincinnati Bengals come to town, we'll scare the living fuck out of those wanna-be criminals. Seriously, though: who'd play us? Everyone would be scared to. Only problem is the Arrowhead magic; fans might not come out for fear of that massive mangle of unwarranted posse that would be in the stands. And you? What if the Broncos were in the same position to acquire Johnson?

7: I typically don't mind attitude problems coming to the Broncos, because it's a team that has veteran leadership and a coach who's not afraid of losing his job. The whole Clarrett thing never bugged me once, other than the fact that they wasted a fairly decent draft pick on him. He cost the Broncos zero money, didn't affect chemistry, and was gone before anyone even noticed he was there.

That episode was evidence, however, of a troubling trend among megalomaniac coaches like Shanahan. They're such control freaks, and so drunk on their own omnipotence, that they feel they can "fix" even the most psychotic players. Both Andy Reid and Bill Parcells, normally smart, reasonable guys, thought they could "fix" your boy TO. Some cats are unfixable. Marvin Lewis went through a phase where he gobbled up every talented thug he could get his hands on, and two things happened: the Bengals got really good in a hurry, and Goodell unleashed the martial law to reign in the gangstas.

I've been very interested in the pattern of behavior--or, specifically, misbehavior--this offseason. Normally June is one-DUI-a-day country for the NFL, as the players get their last bit of irresponsibility out of their system before camp. But outside of Tank, Mex and Adam, the police blotter has been barren. Could it be that Goodell's penalties are being taken seriously by most? Furthermore, could it also be that Tank, Adam and Chris Henry are just truly the most brain-damaged players around right now for pushing the envelope?

In a roundabout way, I believe that the answer to both of those questions is yes, and that the answer to your original question is no. I think Tank is messed in the head and lacking the basic judgment required to be a productive, accountable NFL player. I don't think that about your average jock who gets a DUI or gets into a bar fight, although those both show incredibly poor judgment. So Tank, no. Adam Jones, no, even with the new haircut. Clarrett, Henry, no, no. Mexico, no way. Garden-variety misdemeanor hoodlum? Sure.

So since you refused to take my original question seriously and chose to crack wise, I'll move on. You've always been Mr. Morality on this stuff, but perhaps the annual run-ins with the River Falls PD have left you jaded. No matter. You mentioned a trade of LJ, and I've heard that discussed by more than a few Chief observers. You've also speculated earlier that you felt that the Chiefs would re-sign Larry, but with low guaranteed money. In my opinion, he'll never accept that, and guaranteed money will be the biggest sticking point in these negotiations. I also feel that Carl's ego will kill any legitimate trade, because he'll simply ask for too much. This leaves, to me, two possibilities: either Larry signs for $20 million-plus in guarantees (LT got 21), or he has a prolonged holdout. What's your read?



B: Interesting take on the MoClo' bit. I've never been able to morally distance myself like that with guys on my team's payroll. Kinda ties in with that idealism I spoke of last time we did this. As far as the questions you asked/answered, don't you think it's a little early for "most" to be taking Operation Reign in the Gangstas so seriously? I have a hard time believing that this large group of rich, in-the-spotlight men all altered their behavior so quickly. I'm sure some have, and I'm even more sure that more punishments will be handed out before the season starts.

Brain-damaged? I don't think so. I theorize that it has much more to do with self-absorption and flat out not caring. I wouldn't call these guys veterans. They haven't made it. They're still young and arrogant. Half of the time, I think they enjoy those qualities, too. Jones, for example the epitomizes, like you said, the unfixable cat. I've come to accept the garden-variety hoodlum presence in the league. You have to. Like you said, poor judgment, but I'm not sure I could stomach being a Bears/Titans/Falcons fan through any of those hyper-exposed situations with these guys.

I believe my commentary on the Larry Johnson scenario included the term "minimal." I think you have to recognize the relativity of the term, there. Of course it will be the sticking point. This is where I feel like Carl Peterson's a very shrewd man, though. I'd guess he might be one of the best around at familiarity with the intricacies of the cap and of contracts. I don't pretend to understand them myself, but he seems to layer deals with years that may or may not happen, incentives, clauses, bonuses, etc. Obviously, so does every other GM, but the Chiefs have never gotten themselves in trouble in those neighborhoods, and athletes and agents have been outspoken through the years about how hard-headed that front office can be.

The rumor mill produced the speculation that, when Johnson was allegedly on the trading blocks, the Packers were interested but backed down when the Chiefs wanted 1st-, 2nd- and 3rd-rounders in exchange. He may very well sign for $20 million. I think Peterson can pull the trigger on that kind of a deal, make it fit the cap and not shoot the Chiefs in the foot by having too long an expectancy out of Johnson producing numbers "worthy" of that money. Tying the two topics together would be behavior-related stipulations in his deal that might eliminate some of those guaranteed dollars; Johnson's slate isn't exactly spotless.

My question(s) for you is this: In any job market, employees and employers must always consider inflation/increase in cost of living, right? But that just applies to guys like you and I, doesn't it? I know, barring any slip-ups, that my boss at the juice factory will give me my annual fifty-cent raise, just like your seniority at the gas station will earn you yours. These guys aren't buying that extra gallon of milk a week, they're puttin' rims on their great grandkids' tricycles. At what point do we stop and say, "the cap, along with the salaries, are R-I-diculous?"


7: I think that, by and large, NFL players are intelligent and responsible. You have to be to succeed in a sport like football. Yes, these guys are young and rich and they sow their wild oats, but it seems as though the current disciplinary landscape has curtailed shenanigans this offseason--we'll see.



The Tanks and Adam Joneses, by contrast, are missing the self-control mechanism present in most NFLers (and most real people too). I'm no psychologist, but I watched a lot of Sopranos, and they have sociopathic tendencies. There's a big difference between wanting to go party and crossing the line to felonious behavior. And most guys who are faced with losing millions of dollars and a career they've worked a lifetime for will chill out. These maniacs have not. I still say brain-damaged.

My take on King Carl's track record of not crippling the Chiefs with bad contracts is this: Part of it is shrewdness (which he deserves credit for), part of it is luck. He gave Priest a big contract, and that could have sunk him when Priest got hurt, but it happened to coincide with the new TV contract and the cap going up by 40 per cent. Through sheer coincidence, Priest's deal became more cap-friendly relative to the rest of the NFL. As for the lunacy of what these guys make, I have long separated any real opinion about finances from my role as a sports fan. It is what it is. Larry Johnson is "worth" $20 million in guaranteed money because Arrowhead is packed every Sunday, because you spend a big chunk of your disposable income on gear and tickets, because you and all of your neighbors watch the games religiously and patronize the businesses that align themselves with the Chiefs. He's "worth" that money because I give my cash to Sunday Ticket, CBS Sportsline fantasy football, and I once bought a Jay-Z record. The NFL is a giant ATM with a seemingly bottomless bin of cash, and the finances work. This analogy is tired, but Tom Hanks gets $20 million for a movie, and if enough people see that movie he's "worth" that paycheck.

We've seen the downside of this pattern, which is the NHL. In the early days of this century, teams were handing out $10 million contracts to guys like Peter Forsberg and Jaromir Jagr. They were great players, but it was spectacularly irresponsible to give NFL-level money to stars of a sport without an NFL-level financial foundation. And it basically killed the NHL. Could it kill the NFL too? Of course, because the ATM is never really bottomless. But for now the money is there because we the fans put it there, and there's no end to that trend in sight. There were five games on the entire NFL schedule that were not sold out last year. Five. The Arizona Cardinals sold every game out last year, and this season they've done it again. I have zero problem with these guys making the money they make, it's the American way.

How about this: We thus far have paid what it costs to be an NFL fan. Would you still watch if the games went to pay-per-view at $20 a game? Would you go to the Broncos-Chiefs game if the tickets were $500 each? Would you support a new stadium if it raised your taxes by $3000 a year? What are your limits, not so much with your personal budget but when it comes to the principle of these owners/players digging deeper into your pockets?


B: Well said. All of it, really. Those are tough, tough questions. The idea of paying $20 per televised game rings with immediate irritation, the $500 ticket even more so, and the stadium thing is a bit far-fetched, not that it's unlikely, just that the premise would be getting into fractions and percentages and large numbers I can't wrap my head around. It might be interesting to calculate what percentage of our income we as fans spend on the NFL; if it was delivered in pie-chart form with varying colors, I'm sure I could justify spending some of that money. If things went to that extreme though, one might tinker with the idea of swapping out other compensation-package perks offered by an employer in exchange for season tickets or a pay-per-view package deal. It might be easier for the individual to stomach while simultaneously adding employee incentive to not show up hungover and work hard instead of surfing the Web for images of well-endowed women and essays by dudes blogging in their underwear.

Read more

Thursday, June 21, 2007

Baseball In The Daytime: 6-21-07

I hope all you pervs enjoyed your portion of softcore smut yesterday, I sure did. Now that Bankmeister has issued his weekly post and we're still a couple days away from Cecil's weekend witchcraft, you're stuck with me til payday. Suck it up, and enjoy some more weekday baseball, bitches.

I don't know who's catching for the Cubs these days, but someone's going to have to drop signs for Ted Lilly (6-4) starting at 12:05 Mountain. Chicago gets one more game in Arlington against the Rangers, following last night's awkward milestone. The eminently awful Vincente Padilla (3-8) gets the start for Texas on XM 182 and DTV 734. One juicy Cubs note is that even though the White Sox are hosting their interleague, intracity rivalry series this weekend, they'll still play the afternoon game tomorrow. Awesome.

The Big One today is at Coors. Seriously. The Rockies have gone to the hardware store and purchased brooms, and they're fixing to break them out against the God damned Bronx Bombers at 1:05 on XM 176 and DTV 735 (no word on FSRM's intentions). The Rocket will make over a million dollars to try and halt the Yankees' miniature losing streak, while the surprising Rodrigo Lopez revisits his old AL East tormentors. I am trying very hard to reach a spot where I can watch this game and give y'all some updates and observations, we'll see how that goes. By the way, the Red Sox are back to a double-digit division lead, so everyone can step away from the bridge railing.

Although those Red Sox have already arrived in San Diego for their weekend series versus the Padres, their hosts still have a getaway game with the Orioles to host. This one gets underway at 1:35 on XM 189 and DTV 736. Erik Bedard, who's only 4-4 despite a nice ERA and the MLB lead in strikeouts (the O's 'pen is horrible), faces B.F. David Wells (3-4) in another ex-AL East matchup.

UPDATE: I tried to live-blog Rockies-Yanks, I really did. But the "sports bar" I intended to watch from was an abject disaster: it doesn't open until 2, it has no wireless Web-com-nets and the TVs have neither Extra Innings nor Fox Sports Rocky Mountain. These are the times when living in a small, isolated alpine community licks the balls. As a bonus, I'm blacked out from watching on MLB.TV, so I'm stuck with the radio broadcast. I could say fuck it and go home, but that would be bad form. I'd rather sit, sulk and not work. By the way, a couple of solo jacks from Atkins and Tulowitzki have tied it at 2, end of the 2nd. Read more

Thursday, June 7, 2007

The HoG's Totally Uninformed NBA Finals Preview

Ah, the NBA Finals. An annual rite of spring summer, the Finals were once the canvas on which Jordan, Isaiah, Bird and Magic painted their masterpieces. Since Pat Riley left the Lakers and ruined basketball, however, the NBA postseason has devolved into an unwatchable scrum punctuated by occasional brilliance.

Some people still watch this stuff, though, including my dad (a seriously bandwagon Spurs fan). In the seven weeks since the conference finals concluded, I’ve tried to convince Pops that the Cleveland Cavaliers have a chance in this series. I’ve argued that LeBron just may be reaching an MJ-level plane of singular domination. That the Cleveland supporting cast is better than he thinks. That a tight, defensive style plays into the Cavs’ hands. That the Spurs are too old, and the Cavs are too hungry. It’s all bullshit, of course (except maybe for that LeBron bit). Cleveland will win one game. They can win two games. They just might win three games. But that fourth game? I can’t see a logical way to give the Cavaliers four wins, but then I am not Yahweh. I think Jesus Christ is the only man who could tip the scales in favor of the Cavs, and he is currently a free agent that can penetrate, dish and D up.

The question, though, is does Jesus Christ hate the city of Cleveland?

Cleveland has not celebrated a major sports championship since before me, LeBron, Grady Sizemore and Brady Quinn were born. In 1964 the Browns won the NFL title, and that was before Lamar Hunt’s children invented the “Super Bowl.” In fact, I’m pretty sure that was back when Jim Brown was the only black player in the National Football League.

Fans of the Browns have endured a bitter existence since then. They had to watch Dave Logan play for them, for the love of Pete. They stood there with unthrown Milk-Bones in hand as John Elway drove a stake through their hearts in 1987. They watched Earnest Byner fuck them in the ass the next year (Jeremiah Castille!). They endured Bill Belichick’s awful first coaching stint, before he turned into a wizard. Worst of all, they watched their asshole owner Art Modell move the team to Baltimore in 1996, followed by Modell’s new Ravens winning the Super Bowl after the 2000 season. Guh.

The Indians have been, basically, the biggest joke in baseball since their last World Series win in 1948. The fabulous Major League motion picture series was based on this premise, as if Cleveland winning it all could only happen with the help of Hollywood shenanigans. The Tribe advance to the Series in 1995, losing to the Braves, and again in 1997, where they led Game 7 with one out in the ninth before the Marlins rallied to win a thrilling title. The fucking Marlins, who’ve since won another ring.

The Cavaliers’ past is shorter and slightly less miserable, but everyone remembers Jordan arcing a shot over the outstretched arm of Craig Ehlo back in 1989.

Did Jesus willfully and consciously make all of these events happen to perpetuate the suffering of the Cleveland fan? Perhaps. But why would the Messiah wish to punish these folks? What have they done to deserve this plight?

I’ll certainly be pulling for LeBron and his gang, and not just to be a contrarian with my dad. I’m sick of the Spurs. They’ve had their time, but their excellence comes with no measure of artistry. Duncan whines and politics for calls, their immigrant players flop and bail all over the place, and their coach looks like a hideous burn victim. Get them off my television, Jesus, I pray to you.

At the end of the day, God still hates Cleveland—Spurs in five.


Update: It turns out the fellows over at Lion In Oil have already covered what The Lord thinks about The Finals, those smarmy bastards. Read more

Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Baseball In The Daytime: 5-16-07

So the rainout on the South Side of Chicago last night has resulted in an unexpected treasure: day baseball! Sure, it's the Yankees, but still. The New York Americans will face off against the Pale Hose at noon-oh-five Mountain time.


The pitching matchup is Mike Mussina versus John Danks, the rook Chicago acquired from Texas in the Brandon McCarthy deal. Looks like a mismatch, even if Moose is a purported bigot. The Yankees stand at 17-19, eight games back of the Red Sox in the AL East, while the 18-16 White Sox are four games south of the Tigers in the Central.

As for the broadcast info, XM Radio subscribers can tune in to channel 176. 176 is the first of many MLB play-by-play stations, and the Yankees always seem to get the prime slot there. If you have Extra Innings on DirecTV, I think the game will be on channel 743--their guide hasn't updated with the rescheduled game, and that's the channel the night game of the doubleheader is on. I assume you can also catch it on YES, channel 622 as well. No word as to whether DirecTV will put the game on in hi-def on either 95 or 731.

Or, you can always catch the game on the MLB.TV subscription service. If you haven't signed up yet but enjoy to space out at your desk for hours at a time, a few tips: One, don't get the Premium package. It promises higher-resolution video but to my eyes there's no difference. Two, I've experienced really spotty streaming video on wireless connections. That may be the 700k "Premium" bandwidth issue, but when I've plugged in it's better. Three, there is a "Boss Button," similar to the one that appeared on CBS' online NCAA Tournament coverage (this one's a mock letter, while CBS had a generic spreadsheet). I think these things are fucking hilarious, and I'm sure they'll eventually be litigated out of existence. Perhaps we can add one to the HoG, so y'all can blow off more productive work time.
Read more

Sunday, May 13, 2007

You Know You Make Me Want To Shout

Greetings again, boys and, uh, boys. Today we are once again live and rockin' in Kansas City, on the HoG's first-ever staff field trip. Seeing as how the Weekend Correspondent is in an alcohol-induced coma and Bankmeister is fixin' to honeymoon, you and I are going to be seeing an awful lot of each other over the next week. Let's establish the ground rules: you don't like me, and I do not like you. Settled.


Without question, the greatest thing about sports and being a fan is that you have something to talk about with other guys. Were it not for this fact, men would never have conversations, with anyone, at any time. Sports gives us an avenue for actual discourse with any stranger.

Face it: small talk blows. If I were forced to talk to you in a social setting, the details of your job would bore me to tears in approximately one second. Don't be offended, my job is just as tedious and awful. Work sucks, and talking about it when you're not at work sucks one hundred per cent more. I wouldn't care if you were a covert special agent for a mercenary assasin squad full of lethal strippers, after about a minute I'd prefer a hollow point bullet to the temple over your job-related war stories.

Family & kids? Please reload and fire again. Your wife is exactly the same as mine. They don't understand us and they shop a lot. Your children suck at most everything they try and they are not well-behaved. If you regale me with stories about them it only makes me hate them, and hate you.
While these bullshit details about our lives are horrible conversation, sports make it easy. I can and do spend hours babbling with complete strangers about early entries in the NBA draft, Double-A baseball and the kind of trim that bench players pull. And football. Always football. Even most gay men I've met can carry on a minute or two about the NFL.
That's why, if you are a guy and you don't like sports, you are the lowest life form possible. I'd rather deal with pedophiles than the guy who says "I'm not that into sports." What? Why do you even leave the house? These "men" sicken and disgust me, in that they make my day to day life more difficult. Because I'm lazy and I like things easy.
Read more

Monday, May 7, 2007

Fightin' Fuss



Some of our esteemed mentors continue to poke fun at the sport of ice hockey. Some of the HoG's very own writers enjoy this to excess. They offer tired euphemisms of television ratings, non-interest from the sports world, and uninstigated unacceptable violence. If they're not making fun of the sport, they're joking that the only thing worth watching in it is the fighting itself. Moments later, they criticize it for the same reasons they just applauded.

I'm going to assume that the Detroit Red Wings will finish off the San Jose Sharks (not pictured above) tonight, which will leave me a lousy 2-2 in my conference finals predictions. Oh well. No big whoop.

What has reached a ridiculous stage of old, however, is the aforemention bashing of a game synonymous with integrity. And I offer this picture so that you may take a moment, the next time you begin to bash, to realize that this is the only major sport not played in athletic shoes. I know. Profound, huh?

Yeah. You're on ice skates. Moving much faster than any of those other guys. Therefore, when you get blasted like a catcher guarding home plate, or a receiver in the flat, or a beer-consuming fan in the stands of an NBA venue, it means more. I'm not saying the hits are less hard in those other sports. But you're moving faster in hockey when you get hit, you're frequently blind-sided or hit from behind, and more often than not, you're drilled into a wall. Thus, tempers flare, fights ensue. End of story. This is the only reason why fighting has been (and will continue to be) a factor in hockey.

Counter this argument all you want. But don't do it until you've been on skates. Don't do it until you've been knocked out of your CCMs while skating full steam toward the opposing net. Don't do it until you've had your clock cleaned, leaving your melon to thud the surface near the blue line. Or, just keep doing what you've been doing all along. That's cool. Whatever.

Read more