Faster Ted! I heard 10,000 Maniacs is performing tonight and Natalie Merchant is TOTALLY into me!
-As I return to my home from a hearty long weekend of heavy alcohol and food consumption, a few thoughts on the sports world have been zipping through my head. First of all, that lovely picture above is of Mr. Darcy Regier and Mr. Ted Black starting the long awaited renovations on HSBC arena, and more specifically their new high-end dressing room facilities. Word has it they will be one of the best in the NHL, comparable to what Mark Cuban has for his players on the NBA's Dallas Mavericks. Which means if Cuban gave his players 26" flat screens with a brand new PS3 and loaded ipod, you better believe Buffalo players will be getting some sick 7" portable dvd players with a Sega Dreamcast and disc-man (Goo Goo Dolls "Best of" not included). All kidding aside, it is pretty cool to see the effort these guys are putting forth in Buffalo's new PR department. Sure beats the hell out of "Buffalo: For Real". But more on that later.
-In other Sabres news, star prospect Marcus Foligno signed his entry level deal
with the the club for 3 years and a possible 2.48 million dollars. The son of former Sabre Mike Foligno was a stud in the world juniors and will most likely start the season in Portland or Rochester. Or wherever the hell the Buffalo AHL team decides to settle. Personally, I think Franklinville, NY is a lovely spot for an AHL franchise, but what do I know? I drank 18 Coors Lights on Saturday and then ate my weight in mozzarella sticks at two in the morning. Champion of the world? Champion of the world.
-On Monday, the NY Times had a piece on revisiting Super Bowl 25
. In all honesty, I got five paragraphs in, burst into tears and slammed my head against the wall repeatedly. I refuse to keep torturing myself over that shit. So instead I will tell you that I once saw Otis Anderson eating dinner at a Hooters in Jacksonville before a Jaguars - Giants Monday night game. My friend (a Giants fan) saw his Super Bowl ring glistening in the sunlight. I told him that if I got drunk enough I was going to confront him and let him know that he was the worst Super Bowl MVP of all time. Instead I did shots with a Hooters girl with stretch marks and took a boat to the stadium. Yay me.
-One thing you haven't seen much about on this site yet is college football. What you will come to find out is that I am Penn State fan and Yachtsman is a Michigan fan. We are sure to go at each other's jugular once or twice this fall, but for now I'm sure we agree.....fuck Jim Tressel. Fuck him and his stupid sweater vests. I could go on and on about all the lying and douche-baggery
this guy has presented to us in his career, but I'm saving it for the Yachter. He begged me via text this morning to leave this topic to him and a full post later this week. If you thought his Ralph Wilson post
was bad, hide your kids and wife because nobody hates Ohio State more than him. Remember that Ralph is part of an organization he enjoys. THE Ohio State is a HUGE piece of shit that only terrorists love. (Our fact-checkers are telling me this is true) (I am the fact-checker)
-I'm not going to go too far into Wall Street Icon Jeffrey Gundlach's interest in purchasing the Buffalo Bills
. Sure it is exciting, but until Ralph leaves this world all we can do is sit back and wonder. Although the thought of a Gordon Gecko type running the Bills has me either extremely excited or terrified. Just pray he doesn't know Shia Lebouf.
-Looks like no CrapTastiCast this week folks. With the Apologist working, Yachtsman moving, and Megsie vacationing in Montauk it became quite difficult to make the recording happen. With some luck we will knock one out by next weekend and have it ready for you asap. So if you have just joined in on our lovely podcasting nightmare of ramblings, take this opportunity to go back and listen to some of the past episodes. Of course episode 7
is an epic mess, but episode 2
are also solid and you can hear us coming into our own.
It's good to be the King
-NASCAR TALK! That's right everybody, this weekend saw an amazing finish at the Coca Cola 600
at Charlotte motor speedway. It was officially the longest race in NASCAR history, and by lap 22 several lead cars started running out of gas, completely changing the dynamic of the race. Then with just a few laps left, five-time champion Jimmie Johnson blew an engine, leaving all of the other leaders concerned with conserving fuel. One by one, the leaders either pitted for fuel or ran out, and with one-lap left it looked as if crowd favorite Dale Earnhardt Jr. would end his two year win drought. Not quite. As I jumped up from bed at 11:45 at night to cheer Dale on, in total Buffalo sports fashion he ran out of fuel ON THE LAST TURN, and mid-pack runner Kevin Harvick zipped by for his third win of season. Great ending, but of course I was left disappointed. At least Scizz fave A.J.Allmendinger came in 5th for his best finish of the season. I LOVE MEDIOCRE TEAMS AND RACE-CAR DRIVERS!!!!
-Which all reminds me that I have received confirmation from two of the other three member of the DGWU crew to go camping at Watkins Glen this August for their yearly NASCAR event. We will be joining Father of the Scizz and friends for what is sure to be a drunken nightmare. Live CrapTastiCast anyone???
-Finally, tomorrow night brings that gathering of Barrister, Apologist and myself for some baseball fun at Citi Field in Flushing, NY. DGWU fave R.A. Dickey leads the team against the fan-favorite of many local Buffalonians, the Pittsburgh Pirates. Is that true? I have no idea, somebody leave a comment and let me know. Anyways, If we can figure out how to do it, expect some live updates and amusing pictures. Definitely look for drunken tweets from @DGWUSports
-I leave you with Wu-Tang member Raekwon and one of the tracks off his newest album Shaolin Vs. Wu-Tang
. Sick shit. This track, Masters of our Fate
features Black Thought from The Roots and is already a "most-played" song on my ipod. RIP OL' DIRTY!
Pestilence, thy name is Fred: spreading sickness to the sports masses through ill-advised decisions and apathy for those fans left sick and dying in his wake.
I get paid to think everyday. Which isn't to say that my thoughts are generally profound, or that this is necessarily different than peers in other professions, but only to say that my job generally keeps the wheels turning quickly in my grey matter throughout the day, and it's often pretty difficult to switch it off. More recently, as I've settled down into my career and have managed to avoid too many anxiety-ridden nights fretting over deadlines that are coming or have passed, I've found myself with the opportunity to reflect back on books and movies that I was forced to watch as a kid or student, but which I either (a) did not actually read because I was the least-motivated ball of potential my teachers had ever seen (seriously, a teacher called me that once), or (b) did read, but didn't understand. Sometimes I'm giving it a second read or viewing - like I did with Crime and Punishment last year. (Sidebar: How anyone expects high school kids to truly understand that fucking book is beyond me, but my adult self thought it was boss. I know City Honors thinks its the shit or something
, but they might have been reaching with that particular curriculum choice.) Or when I watched Fraggle Rock
just the other day. (Second Sidebar: seriously, that show is a scathing critique of American society as it harkens back to Platonic ideas regarding social homogeneity and the benefit of stepping out of the cave - literally. That was definitely lost on me when I watched as a kid, as my only thought would have been - "Oooh, COLORS.") However, sometimes, like the last couple days, my reflection is prompted not by the decision to re-immerse myself in a book or movie, but by real-world events that somehow spark a memory of some lesson urged on me by a teacher; a lesson I guarantee I didn't fully appreciate - and may still not yet. I revisit the themes of long-since-read tomes in the hopes that they might provide some guidance in framing the issues of my day - whether frivolous or profound - so that I might find a more thorough understanding of my world.
I read Great Expectations for the first time pretty late in my life. I was in England at the time, a junior in college, and enjoying a semester abroad in Bath. We read the book as part of 'Images of Masculinity,' an interesting course exploring the way that men were represented in literature and popular culture. Pip, the protaganist of the story, is chosen - by whom, it does not become clear until much later - to be a beneficiary of a life track toward greatness. Without his full knowledge, he is encouraged to make more of himself, to strive to be greater than he could ever have dreamed. And, as the esteemed American author and visionary Stan Lee teaches us, unearned benefits of privilege carry with them a corresponding responsibility to conduct one's self according to higher standards of manhood. While Pip fails to live up to those expectations for much of the story, the high standards set for him are always in the back of his mind, urging him to be better, to find something deeper within himself to share with the world. And, when we discover that Pip's expectations were set by Abel Magwitch, the Convict, we the readers share in Pip's realization that, sometimes, the dreams of our own greatness may just be thriving in people who don't necessarily achieve that greatness themselves. Thus, story suggests, I think, that there is real value in patronage when it is coupled with a moral imperative that the beneficiary act to the highest standards of humanity.
I'll be the first to admit that I may be getting all of this wrong. I haven't read this book in 8 years. But, in my perhaps nonsensical deconstruction of this book, it becomes abundantly clear to me that one of the central points is that we are often at our best when motivated to live up to the better version of our self hoped for by those around us, but that the extent of that motivation may realistically need to be tied directly to the promise of rewards or the threat of penalties.
I turned to Dickens because expectations have been on my mind this week, and - being a simple fellow - the title popped into my head and I had to run with it. While this theme had been forming in my thoughts for a while, it all came to a head the other night walking to the subway from a drunken DGWUSports night at The Pony Bar in Manhattan. The Apologist and I were treated to classic Yatchsman: lots of yelling, cursing, high-fives to random people he met along the way. It sort of began with Yachstman enraged by a horse-drawn carriage - his PETA sensibilities coming out very strongly - and continued with more general themes about tourists and commercialism as we approached Times Square. His comments, while hilarious in the sheer awkwardness that it caused amongst the out-of-towners we passed, also got me thinking about our collective unwillingness - with few exceptions - to call each other out and encourage each other to be better. His comments begged the question: whether acceptance of, for instance, the ridiculous reality of Times Square, is a rather unacceptable failure on our part to demand that humanity keep striving for something more than merely scraping along with a commercially-driven set of priorities and values. These thoughts were with me as I began scribbling notes and ideas for this post on my way home that night, and they were with me as I woke up Friday morning - hungover as all hell. Seeing Yachtman's post
Friday morning continued the theme - he was, again, demanding something more (this time from Ralph Wilson), and was doing so for all our sakes as fans of Buffalo, the Bills, the NFL and its history. Hell, his post - logically sound, if verbally offensive - was making demands on behalf of reasonable thought, itself.
I share the Yacther's beef with Ralph, though he is not even be the most apt example of ownership fuckeduptitude in my sports universe these days. That title, dear readers, is of course held by Fred "I don't ask questions about ridiculously good returns on my investments with my pal, Bernie, and will casually act in a way that will endanger the future of the Mets franchise for years to come"
Simply put, by way of comparison, if Ralph is an "odious taint," Fred is somewhere between a despicable pile of douche and Sarah Palin. Assuming there's even a difference between the two.
Some may call him willfully ignorant, some may call him passively fraudulent. To me, he's just the rotten bastard who has ensured the Mets will be be in financial crisis for the next five to ten years. Good job there, bud.
When I first started following the Mets in 2005, I had a vague notion that Wilpon was kind of a douchey owner. Yet, even clear instances of incompetency of the Wilpon's ownership didn't really bother me. Subconsciously, part of me may have identified with the crotchety, dottering old man, if only to the extent that he was a clear, but distinct, model of the sports-team owner archetype with which Buffalo fans had become oh-so-familiar. In other words, he often seemed stupid and pathetic in his management decisions, but also ultimately harmless and maybe even admirable in his seemingly feeble efforts to present a world-class product with his professional baseball team.
After all, even though there were frequent moments during which I was acutely aware that the Mets were being run like a second-rate franchise, my standards were artificially decimated by previous acceptance of Sabres' ownership that proved to be as slimy as they come.
Nothing like a little securities fraud to make you count yourself blessed to follow a team with ownership that can keep itself out of prison.
What was vaguely apparent to me as I recovered from the Adelphia/Rigas clusterfuck back in '02, and what is all-too-apparent now, is that sports franchises - even moderately successful ones - have a fickle existence, and that even a team thoroughly adored by its fans could vanish in an instant. So, perhaps it was my own willful ignorance to that reality that encouraged me to be generally accepting of Wilpon since, at least so far as I knew, he wasn't doing anything to endanger the Mets' future as a New York baseball franchise. My standards having been lowered by on- and off-field (or ice) failures of Buffalo sports franchises, I was frankly too willing to give Wilpon - who had a World Series ring, after all (Ooooh, Shiny!) - a pretty long fucking leash with which to, bit by bit, destroy the franchise. Not that I was personally in a position to put a stop to it, but - then again - the collective leash given by Mets fans as a whole may have allowed good old Fred a little bit too much leeway to treat this franchise like, as the Yachtsman might say, a country club project with no real-world consequences with which he chooses to be bothered.What's ultimately made me so troubled by Wilpon's recent troubles is that we Met fans enabled this guy with our consistent attendance at games (even when the team has been decidedly garbage), our jersey and clothing purchases, and - most importantly - our willingness to
casually ignore what's really going on with Wilpon's financial dealings. This lack of accountability is especially absurd when you consider that the athletes on the field are under an incredible microscope and are held to incredibly high standards by media, fans, corporate sponsors and owners alike. The sports world has become obsessed with ensuring that procedures are now in place to catch those who violate rules against performance-enhancing drugs (which, by their nature are designed to help a team), but we have thus far failed to create any real mechanism for ferreting out misconduct amongst the highest levels of sports franchise's hierarchy. And, for those of us who cherish these teams and want them to thrive within the communities we love, that's really where the most damage can be done.I guess what I'm trying to say, and without very much brevity or eloquence - so who knows if anyone is even reading at this point - is that we, as consumers of the sports industry, have a unique responsibility to require a higher level of conduct
from those people who directly benefit from the dollars that we so freely deposit into the world of sports commodity. Not just the players. The players are being watched with an eagle-eye by the league and ownerships that run shit, but it is incumbent on the rest of us to make sure that someone is watching the owners. The media picks this stuff up from time to time, but even so, there have clearly been times where an owner's misconduct went under the radar. Who knows if Wilpon's shady deals would have been apparent had a light been shone on Wilpon's financial records? But, as a basic starting point, given the public trust given to owners - through tax breaks, cheap lease deals, zoning exemptions and the use of public funds for renovated or new stadia - the least we can do is ensure that the public trust is not squandered. Through years of support and utter devotion, WE are the benefactors of the Freds and Ralphs of the sports world. For years, we have required very little of them, and we can't now be surprised that they treat us with such disrespect. Owners have received our patronage, often without any conditions whatsoever, while frequently conditioning their part of the relationship on our conduct - whether by demanding that a stadium sell out before allowing it to be broadcast locally, or by requiring that a city or county pony up public funds before investing anything more into a franchise. This status quo is backwards, or at the very least unreasonably one-sided.
But it can also change, as recent evidence suggests
. The open question, then, is how engaged do we each want to be in raising the expectations for the owners of our teams? To that, I have no answer - even for myself. Would love your feedback. Leave a comment!Follow me on Twitter! @theycallmedubs
Ugh, who gets into the Hall of Fame without a Superbowl Ring? A senile idiot who looks like Skeletor shat in a human skeleton. I don't even know what that means but I'm sure it's bad. Forgive me.
I APOLOGIZE FOR THIS POST. IT IS ALCOHOL FUELED, KINDLED BY FIRES OF HOMETOWN SENTIMENT AND LOVE FOR EVERYTHING THAT IS BUFFALO SPORT.
The Yachtsman (beware, hammered)
The first time I heard that word odious, my mother used it in reference to me having a particularly nasty spoiled upper middle class white kid episode somewhere around the 6th grade. Basically, I was given everything I ever wanted in life, and was never left hungry and/or cold. Somehow I still found a way to bitch about something I didn't get-probably an outlandishly expensive toy that only a little spoiled bag of cocks like me would make a scene about. I thrashed and thrashed and thrashed, probably stamped my feet, and said odious nasty little things only a shitty mouthed 6th grader with no concept of consequences or morality could say (thank crap my parents sent me to State School for college, otherwise I probably would have been an odious little shit for the rest of my days). I don't remember the outcome, but hopefully my father gave me a fresh one across the back of the head to straighten me out. I took one thing from that episode:
DON'T BE A SNIVELING SPOILED BAG OF COCKS.
Just sell the team to someone in Buffalo so we can all be rid of you, you sniveling little shit.
Ralph Wilson has been throwing a 6th grade fit since the 70s. It started with his demands to build the new Stadium in Orchard Park (WITH TOTAL FUCKING DISREGARD FOR THE NAME ON THE G-D JERSEY...BUFFALO), and year after year his highness feels the need to repeat to Bills fans that his gift to us is keeping the team in Buffalo. REALLY RALPH!?!? THAT'S YOUR GIFT?!?! YOU BOUGHT A SHITTY AFL TEAM FOR $50,000 IN 1960, TRIED TO MOVE IT TO MIAMI, AND LED US TO 50+ YEARS OF MEDIOCRITY BECAUSE YOU WERE TOO CHEAP TO MOVE THE SQUAD TO SOUTH BEACH!?!?! REALLY?!?!!?
No seriously, all that shit happened. Ask Joe Pinzone.
whine whine whine bitch bitch bitch small market small market small market bitch bitch whine dementia.
Of course, right now you're asking yourself why all the vitriol towards Ralph, Yachter? I'll tell you why: he's fucking us. The hockey hayride is over. Ted Black and the Pegulamaniacs are all hunkered down at Sabres HQ planning their next move. The Bandits season is over....now a (unfortunately) football town turns its collective head towards St. John Fisher College and the developments within. This is where Shitstain Wilson comes through in the clutch, every time. Ego influenced Front Office Decisions, shitty Head Coaching choices, and awful draft picks. Welcome to being a Bills fan since forever! It's all Ralph's Fault! (unqualified and unsubstantiated, but I really could care less it's 3 AM and I've had a few chardonnays).
50 years younger, still a dumb stubborn bastard.
Seriously though all this vitriol comes from today's events of which I'm sure you're aware if you are a Bflo Blog Reader. Some rich dude in Midtown Manhattan (raised in Buffalo) wants to buy the Bills and we are all happy. Ralph's doucheocracy at One Bills Drive then releases a statement (which they had to, I know) saying the Bills aren't for sale whilst pee catheter is still alive. Everyone returns to sadness. (DESCRIPTIONS! MY FORTE!)
THIS IS A THING THAT MAKES ME PISSED OFF.
Seriously Ralph, you bought the team for $50,000....sucked off the county TIT for almost a half century, and now, when it's time to sell the team or keep it for your probably ugly offspring...you're not gonna budge. We all know what this is, you dementia'ed assed old creep-o: this is you taking a shot at "pipsqueak" Roger Goodell and the current NFL Big Market reality. WELL GUESS WHAT, RALPH CORNELIUS (NOT TRUE) WILSON: NOT ONE SINGLE PERSON IN BUFFALO CARES ABOUT YOUR PETTY RICH PEOPLE PROBLEMS. EFF YOURSELF, SELL THE TEAM, AND MOVE BACK TO DETROIT WHERE YOU CAN LIVE OUT YOUR DAYS WATCHING MATTHEW STAFFORD GETTING SACKED ON SUNDAYS.
Which brings me back to my original, rambling, outlandish point: Ralph Wilson is an Odious Taint. I'm sick and tired of hearing how shitty a market our area is. The least you can do for an area that has CRAFTED ITS FUCKING IDENTITY around your little country club project is to turn around and open up ownership negotiations. The City of Buffalo made you fucking Rich Ralph. It's time you turned the hell around and gave something back.
I fell asleep twice during the creation of this post and I am clearly still a bit sauced. This was stream of consciousness whining. I'm not even going to review content. I beg you to rip me to shreds in the comments section. This was irresponsible of me, but I fucking hate Ralph right now. He is a fucking douche.
This post was brought to you by the song "Whiplash" by Metallica
Disclaimer: We would like to apologize for what you are about to hear. Seriously. This podcast is one of our favorite things to do, and we usually meet before to go over topics and discussion points for each week. It has become a little tradition that we cherish. HOWEVER, this week was a little different. We all showed up still drunk from the night before and barely made this edition of the CrapTastiCast happen. Yachtsman plowed through the doors looking like the UnaBomber, an hour late and then the madness began. Which may not be a good thing. What follows is about 45 minutes of complete and total rambling from a bunch of drunken idiots and we barely speak about sports. It may be one of the worst things we have ever done, or could possibly be one of the best. I'm still not sure. Below you can read a brief synopsis of the show that Megsie was smart enough to keep track of for us. WE ARE TRULY SORRY. PLEASE DO NOT JUDGE US BASED ON THIS EPISODE. We promise that next week, it should be back to normal (whatever that may be).
Lindsay was in solid shape compared to us Sunday morning
On this edition of the CrapTastiCast: Still drunk, the crew talks about their respective experiences from the night before, Joe Buck (Yachtsman met him and embarrassed himself), Macho Man Randy Savage, guys named McNabb, Winnipeg hockey, why we moved to New York City, a little NBA talk, the potential arrests of Buffalo Bills players this off-season. We also spend quite awhile making fun of "Buffalo: For Real" and have our first Dear God, Why Us Sports contest! All you have to do is listen all the way through to the end of the podcast in order to win!. Aaaaaaaand if you really liked "Buffalo: For Real", then you will probably not be thrilled with us.
As always you can listen below (we added the second streaming option for those of you that use google reader), and also download it from iTunes and Libsyn
. It would mean a lot to us if you can subscribe! Thanks for listening everyone, and again we are very sorry to everyone. View the original "Buffalo. For Real." video below. I'm pretty sure we just made some enemies....oh well.
I guess I'm sticking with the creepy, sexual offender-looking reviewers in this installment.
Welcome to the continuation of my 2011 summer movie preview. This week I take a look at the major releases of June, but of course with a Sabres twist. I got some great feedback from people about my May preview
, and as it turns out, there are many nerd/Sabres fans out there. It is pretty cool that I can talk to complete strangers about comic book movies, hockey, and Dr. Who all in the same conversation. Also, my girlfriend just cringed after reading that last sentence. Hi Honey! On to the movies!
X-Men:First Class - June 3rd
Ennis, Gerbe, Myers, Gragnani, Weber, & Enroth
We should all be familiar with the X-Men film franchise now (but I’ll forgive you if you block out Last Stand and I’ll punch you if you try to make me remember Wolverine). As a huge fan of the comics growing up, I always loved the idea of this group of misfits with super powers that have to come together for the better of their kind and the safety of the world. In the latest installment from Kick-Ass director Mathew Vaughn, we have a prequel that tells of the beginning of the young X-Men coming together for the first time. So could there be anything else to do here but compare this young group of powerful mutants with the up and coming youth surge of the Buffalo Sabres. I know I have already used Tyler Myers and Nathan Gerbe in the May preview, but add in Tyler Ennis, Marc-Andre Gragnani, Mike Weber and Jhonas Enroth , and you have a formidable team coming together to achieve a common goal….world peace. Wait, I meant a Stanley Cup. Sorry about that, I get my comic and sports priorities messed up sometimes. Also in comparison, Tim Kennedy is Magneto. I have no evidence to support that statement.
Super 8 - June 10th
I had to go with the Yachtsman personal favorite Cody McCormick here. Yes, the only obvious connection is the number 8, but you damn well better believe that if the Sabres bring Cody back, I’m referring to him as Super 8 all season. Especially if this film is as good as I think it is. I have to say that despite being a total comic book nerd (5 comic book movies this summer), I am looking most forward to J.J. Abrams’ Spielbergian tale of mystery. In a similarly odd way, despite the more well known current players and free agents out there right now, I’m also really looking forward to the re-signing of Cody McCormick. Ever since he was called up for the 2010 playoffs, I think he has been one of the Sabres most consistent players. He plays hard, fights hard, and does exactly what you want from a solid 4th line player. He played in 81 games, finished with career highs in goals, assists, points, and shots on goal. Not to mention his 142 penalty minutes and willingness to drop the gloves. Both the film and the player are sleeper hits.
Green Lantern - June 17th
Back to the comics. Green Lantern tells the story of an Air Force pilot named Hal Jordan that is chosen by a group of cosmic beings to possess a powerful ring. This ring gives him superpowers and allows him to protect the universe. I know I keep on making these silly comic to Sabres connections, but this one really jumped out at me. Why? In 2011, a Pennslyvania billionaire named Terry Pegula is motivated by his Buffalo-native wife and his love of hockey to purchase the Buffalo Sabres. Using his powerful checkbook, he will be able to bring in/keep superstar players that will lead the franchise to a Stanley Cup. This is fun and yes, I am a huge dork.
Bad Teacher - June 24th
My initial instinct was to use former captain Craig Rivet here, but after re-watching the trailer for this R-rated comedy, I changed my mind. The synopsis of the film is that the Cameron Diaz character is a shitty teacher who under-achieves because she has a rich fiancé and doesn’t value her job. When she gets dumped, she panics and tries to win over a substitute-teacher (played by some guy from N’Sync) who is also rich, so she can be set again financially. She attempts to achieve this by becoming a better teacher, with the eventual plan of going back to being “bad” again. I already know I am going to take some shit for this one, and let me first say that I am not against the idea of resigning Drew Stafford. HOWEVER, you have to admit he has been frustrating to watch over the past couple of seasons due to inconsistency, and this huge burst in offense we witnessed (had he been healthy all year, he would have easily lead the team in goals) has to make you think. I hate contract years. Is this a new Drew Stafford that will become an offensive juggernaut? Or will he revert back to a 14 goal season after he gets a new, lucrative deal? And why is Jason Segal in this movie? He needs to focus on The Muppets!Sidenote
: This movie actually doesn't look all that great, but go to the 1:53 mark for one of the best scenes from any trailer I have seen so far this year. Classic.
That does it for the June installment of my previews. Check back within the next week for my look at July, which features a douche-bag with a jacket over his shoulder, a cartoon classic, the TRUE Captain America, and more than meets the eye. Remember to follow me on twitter @TheScizz and @DGWUSports.
A little over a month ago, I revealed one of my guiltiest pleasures on this website
. I am a fan of professional wrestling.
This is always good for an eye-roll in most social circles. Wrestling is goofy, fake theater where greased-up men shout at each other for made-up reasons and then toss each other around the ring like rag dolls. And yes, all of these things are true. But it can also be wildly entertaining.
And one of those people who made it extremely fun to watch for a very long time was Randy Poffo, better known as “Macho Man” Randy Savage.
As you’ve probably already heard, Savage died last weekend of a heart attack while driving in Florida with his wife. But for most fans, this isn’t so much the cause of death as it is the final curtain. The true reason was a life sacrificed for the entertainment industry of pro-wrestling.
For those of you who don’t know or don’t care, “Macho Man” truly was one of the greats. He wore ridiculously over-the-top outfits. He spoke eloquently (for a wrestler), if not psychotically, about the myriad of ways he would dissect his opponent and why. He routinely leapt from the top turnbuckle at a time when it wasn’t as commonplace a maneuver for a man of his size as it is today. In fact, his finishing maneuver probably caused him more pain than the jobber receiving it. Plus, he could easily flip-flop between being loved or hated by the fans, an important trait for a wrestler who wants to stick around for a good long while.
And Savage stuck around as long, if not longer, than I ever expected him to. You always got the sense that he was the type to overdo it at all times and that eventually it would catch up to him. Like most wrestlers of his time, there were never any shortage of rumors about drinking, cocaine and steroid use. But whether it was in the ring or a Slim Jim ad, his whole persona was one of pure rage, borderline psychosis, and it never seemed like much of a stretch for him.
And of course, that's what made it so fun to watch. Macho Man didn't necessarily need a storyline. There was no history or angle he was pitching. Unlike wrestlers like Sergeant Slaughter or the Million Dollar Man who had a storyline to backup their persona, there was no reason for his madness. He was just crazy.
Ultimately, he will be remembered as one of the icons of the industry. Whenever anyone rattles off their list of the all-time greats, you're bound to hear the name Randy Savage.
...and if you don't, tell that person the Apologist says he's an idiot. Oooh yeeaah!
The BarristerThis garbage is just WAY too predictable at this point. Feeling feisty after game 1 of the Subway Series, I posted this.
I talked a little shit about Jeter. I talked a lot of shit about Yankee fans. And, while I added the requisite amount of caveats, I got cocky and self-righteous about my Mets and their prospects for the rest of the weekend.
Oh Goddammit. The Mets: Still Experts at Pooping the Bed
Jeter: Still Expert at Making Us His Bitch
For any Mets fans out there - and if you read this sorry excuse for a blog and our whining drivel about our shitty sports teams, I assume there's a decent chance you are - my apologies. The fact is that the Mets had an opportunity to shut the door on the series today by building on their 3-1 lead, but the 8 run 7th inning by the Bombers changed that right quick and in the end the Mets simply got worked. I really should have known better, and clearly my overzealous support and optimism had a big part in the Mets' losses last night and this afternoon. This is by no means the first time my attitude has caused a team of mine to lose, so I really feel quite ridiculous at my inability to temper my emotions. My bad folks. My bad.
Sadly, I can't promise that it won't happen again.
That said, to any Yankee fans out there - congrats you giant DBs
. There's a billion reasons why it's stupid for you smug sons of bitches to gloat about this win (and boy did you on Twitter today), but I'll give you some slack since I have no choice but to assume that you're all still drunk from the game and your celebrations at beating a team full of reserves. If I were in your position, I'd be drunk too. And then I'd stab myself in the leg out of principle. And I'd like it.
As for me, this Mets Subway series loss - putting them back to two games below .500 while reviving serious questions about whether they can stay afloat long enough to get at least marginally healthy - has me feeling like my old self: depressed and in need of some shots of Crown and/or Jame-o to get me out of this funk. Toss in losses by Liverpool
- to close their season - and FC Buffalo
- to open theirs , and I'm left finding singular solace in women's soccer and the dominating performance
by Marta and the WNY Flash this evening. And even though I don't have much of a problem defending my decision to watch and cheer for the 2010 FIFA Player of the Year
playing for a WNY team, especially after all my other teams had disappointing outcomes this weekend, given the relatively small scale of the WPS and the apparent meaninglessness of the Flash win compared to a Subway Series loss, I'm all too conscious that this has been a pathetic little weekend for my teams.
Not that I'm the least surprised. Just a typical f*cking day of DGWU.
Luckily for the Rebels, these smug f*ckers seriously
underestimated those little Ewoks from Queens
As part of my process of self-introduction to our beloved DGWU readers, I think its necessary to say that I'm a Yankee hater. Much of the time, I'm forced to cloak my hate for the benefit of my Yankee fan father-in-law and my wife who generously supports any team followed by anyone in our family. It's not difficult to give many life-long Yankee fans a pass, since I can't very well hate on those whose fandom was set early on in their childhood. Yet, as successful as the team is, and as much as they've historically poached the cream of the MLB talent pool, it's hard for me to think anything good about the franchise. I always hated Yankee fans in Buffalo as I grew up, as I had the irking suspicion that my peers were taking the easy way out by choosing a front-runner that could help them soothe the pain of our hometown sports failures. My family (by way of my parents growing up in New England) cheered for the lowly, cursed Red Sox as I grew up - which, predicably enough, was less appealing to me after celebrating the 2004 championship with my parents while I was living at home that fall.
Making a switch to the Mets - which wasn't realy a switch, since I could honestly give a crap about major league ball until I caught a live game at Shea in '05 - seemed like a logial step because those roots of support for the BoSox certainly engrained a certain level of loathing for the Yankees on any number of levels. Living in New York, I've learned a lot of new reasons to hate on the Bombers, not the least of which is my general feelings about certain elements of their fan base. Indeed, now that the Sox are winning on the regular, their fanbase has been displaying some of those same annoying tendencies, which makes me fall all the more comfortable with distancing myself from the boys from Fenway.
I mention all of this backstory because yesterday over lunch at work, I had a pretty long conversation with a coworker who was adamant that the Yankees would sweep the Subway Series, that the Mets are the embarassment of the league, and that shouldn't I just get over the Mets and start following a winner? The guy, who I generally like quite a bit, came off as a complete dumbass and had it been a lunch over a couple beers, I probably would have gotten a lot more heated than I ended up being. He was completely oblivious to problems within their lineup, to the fact that Jeter is on his way down in production and that the pitching isn't as good as everyone keeps saying it is. In my preview post yesterday, I purporsefully chose not to bring up this infuriating conversation, mostly because I had a healthy fear that the Mets might actually get swept, and since this coworker has made a point to check in on this blog every once in a while, I didn't want to embarass myself too badly.
But, it's Saturday now, Ithe "lowly" Mets won 2-1, and I'm happy gloating a little bit. In other words, suck it Yankees and your knuckle-dragging fans. You just got beat by a bunch of AAA players and a bullpen of guys who, at the beginning of the season, were pegged as the worst in the league.
If you didn't watch (and I confess that I took breaks to watch more wife-friendly TV), The game itself was great. Dickey pitched a gem, giving up only 4 hits ,including 1 HR by Texeira, over 6 innings. A solid effort for him - especially given his 5 1/3 inning, 11 hit, 6 run performance against the Astros in his previous outing. Consecutive full innings by O'Connor, Isringhausen and K-Rod kept the Yankees hitless through the 7th, 8th and 9th. Add in a key 5th inning A-Rod grounder up the middle stopped by Jose Reyes, and the Mets defense really came through in a big way.
This defensive effort set the stage for the Mets offense to do just enough to win, and they did - in the form of Daniel Murphy taking advantage of the short porch in right field by hitting the ultimate game-winning homer
to put the score at 2-1. Murphy, who had been a favorite of mine when he was up with the Mets a couple years back, has taken advantage of the recent opportunity to start and, yesterday, to bat 2nd in the order. Mike Vaccaro of the Post had a really great article
about Murph today and it really makes me happy to see the guy coming back around after his recent struggles - much like the team itself.
Putting all this positivity aside - as it is so easy to do given my utlimate confidence that the Mets are actually not all that good of a team - I know those Yankees are going to come out firing tonight. The City press was pretty hard on the Bombers today, and with good reason. Not that it stopped the guy in front of me at Dunkin Donuts this morning from spouting off about how great the Yanks are and how much the Mets suck. To him, and many others, the Yankees' predominance in the world of New York baseball is a matter of black and white, and a struggling and aging team won't convince them otherwise.
So, even though these clowns aren't about to shut up anytime soon, boy is it fun to watch the Mets and its lineup of young guns give it a try.
Follow me on Twitter! @theycallmedubs
And the DGWU Crew generally: @DGWUSports
The Subway Series is always a weird and wonderful time in New York. A buzz fills the air - though, today that might just be the hope that The Rapture could leave us behind and a little better off - and fans express their allegiances with hats, jerseys, t-shirts, cursing arguments in the street. It's great. But, it goes without saying that the level of buzz has been a little muted in the past few years, what with the Yankees being so awesome generally and the Mets being so pathetic generally. As a Mets fan, I'm all too aware of this trend.
But, for this first meeting between the two teams from the Big Apple, the posturing is different. The Mets, while certainly not a good
team, are making a little bit of a run of it lately. Injury-plagued like always
, this team is doing a lot with a little so far this season. When D. Wright went out with a diagnosed stress fracture in his back, some fans may have lost what little hope was left, but the week since has shown some fight in this team that you can't help but be impressed at. Typical Buffalo rationale for following a garbage squad, I know. Don't like it? Kill yourself.
Seriously, though, the Mets started off SUPER rocky this year, winning their first seies against the Marlins, but then losing consecutive series against the Philles (no surprise), Nationals (dammit), Rockies (SWEPT..those were a couple rough days for me), Braves and Astros. Holy shit that's depressing to go through. The Mets were 6-13 heading into a late April series against the D-Bags, I mean, Backs, which resulted in a 3-0 series win. In hidsight, that sweep of Arizona was a big turning point, as the Mets proceeded take series against the Nationals (twice), Dodgers, Astros and Rockies since, with series losses only to the Phillies (2-1) and Giants (2-1), as well as a single game series loss to the Marlins on May 16th. Suddenly, with TWO (two!) pitchers out for the year
, a franchise third baseman out for at least a month
(and probably longer), a future frachise first baseman on the DL
as well, an ace still on the mend from off-season surgery
and an owner who is a complete asshat
, the Mets are 21-22 and a mere 5 games back of Philly, and - by my count - only 3.5 games back of the wildcard, Sure, WAYYYY too early for talk like that, but it's just to prove my point. The Mets may be awful, but they also may NOT be. A lot of baseball left and shit if I know how these apparent scrubs are going to be positioned when the heat and humidity of August starts to kick into full gear in Flushing.
And, perhaps unsurprisingly, I'm not alone in feeling that this Subway Series may not be the mismatch
that it probably should be and that I thought it was destined to be as of three weeks ago. Don't get me wrong, though, The Yankees roster is absurdly stacked from the top down, and the Mets don't get the benefit of forcing the Yanks' AL pitchers to bat since this game is in the Bronx. I'm not going to pretend that the Yankees should
lose this series, or even a game of this series, with the squad that they've purchased. But, facts are facts, and the Bombers aren't playing all that great ball lately. They sit only 2.5 games above the Mets in terms of standings, and - despite their three game winning streak coming into tonight's game (two of which were against the Orioles, though, and don't count) - they've had a rough go of it this month with recent series losses to the Sox (SWEEP!! Hooray Sox!), the Tigers and Royals. Sure, they still took out the Rangers in the midst of all that, but those boys from fact Texas are simply in a slow, downward spiral after their hot 6-0 start.
As for the Yankees, the story is that team just isn't hitting well. Their leading player (at least amongst their usual starters) in terms of average is Robinson Cano, and he's sitting at .288. Jeter and A-Rod are at .257 and .261, respectively, Not really what we've come to expect. Curtis Granderson is playing alright - he's second in AL with 14 HRs and 3rd in AL with 32 RBIs - but his .270 average is still below where you want all of these guys on the supposedly deadly Yankees batting order. In fact, with Texeira as the best Yank in terms of OBP, and with him sitting at 15th in the AL, and A-Rod coming in at 33rd, there should be more than a little concern amongst Bomber fans.
A-Rod: Resident Douche and Underperformer
Given the state of things, and despite the instincts of the reasonable parts of my brain, Mets fans have to be excited for this series. With all the injuries (seriously, though, they've needed new conditioning coaches for YEARS now) and typical ineptitude with Los Mets, nothing would make me happier than to stick it to the Yankees this weekend and prove that they're not even fit to beat a team of AAA call-ups from Buffalo (woot!).
Starters, according to MLB.com, are projected to be RA Dickey (1-5, ERA of 5.08) and Freddy Garcia (2-3, ERA of 3.22). With the recent troubles at the plate for the Yankees, I expect Dickey's knuckler to create some problems, and am hopeful for a series-opening win.
Game Prediction: Mets 6, Yankees 2.
Series Prediction: Mets take two - one tonight plus a big win for Big Pelf in Sunday's rubber match.
Follow me on Twitter! @theycallmedubs
And for the DGWU Crew, @DGWUSports
"What the hell's the goddamn question, Gleason? And what the hell kind of goddamn name is Bucky? Did your father lose a bet, son?"
I'm sure by now everyone's heard the Atlanta Thrashers may be
on their way to the sunny shores (?) of Winnipeg, Manitoba. Yay for Canada. If the rumours are indeed true, and True North has managed to purchase AND move the Thrash to Jet-land, the NHL and the sport are immediately better.
I can't figure out if this is Scott Arniel or Deron Quint. Frankly, I don't give a damn. It's a Jet raising a 7 Up in the bottle. You love it.
Yes, I am one of those NHL "traditionalists". I don't believe hockey south of the Mason-Dixon is a) needed b) wanted. Every since No Goal took over the league, the NHL has expanded into markets where it shouldn't exist at the expense of markets where it should. As a foul-mouthed sports blogger, I have no respect whatsoever for these squads. I rarely refer to them by their given names. To me they will only ever really be represented as a three letter abbreviation I'll watch play a good Western Conference Squad or suffer through a full game when the Sabres are forced to roll through their markets (and dominate their arenas with roadie support). PHO, CAR, ATL, FLA, and to a lesser extent ANA & DAL (because of, you know, the thing we haven't won...ever) are completely and utterly useless to me. The fan support does not exist (or barely does) in these towns. It never did. The ownership groups chosen to run these teams were clearly poor choices. That dangerous combination leads to empty barns and poorly run playoff point fodder for the rest of the league. Garbage decision. The revenue generated is negligible compared to what No Goal and his buddies projected when they began their own version of the Southern Strategy (if you don't know what the original Southern Strategy is, look it up
, be a smarter person
, and stop
voting for ruhtards
THANK YOU FOR REMINDING ME THAT I CRAVE CIGARETTES KEANU. YOUR NAME AND FACE ARE STUPID.
But I digress from the anger/resentment toward towns who have hockey teams they don't particularly deserve. I do so because the Thrashers' northern migration presents me with a conundrum: how can I poop on another town's fanbase when my town faces the same (football) fate? I've been trying to reconcile this debate in my head all night and it just won't fix itself. By all intents and purposes (holy crap I'm gonna get dumped on for this one), the Buffalo Bills have no right to exist in the City of Buffalo under the current ethos of the NFL. The NFL, like it or not, has proven to the world many times over the past 30 years that the almighty $$$ comes ahead of anyone and everything. From this current lockout to the TV contracts, the NFL is a planet eating currency eater hell bent on financial destruction of everything in its path. How can I reconcile that (from a temporarily objective standpoint) with a small-market cash-poor franchise operating in an area with no real lucrative, corporate, SkyBox fanbase or luxury income base from which to draw revenue? We have the cheapest tickets in the league, and operate under the single most generous revenue sharing contract in global professional sport! The money will NEVER add up. The hounds will come and no one here will be able to keep them at bay.
The future founders of SkyNet.
HEREIN LIES MY PROBLEM:
I am so excited for Hockey to return to Canada (if it is indeed true). There's a goddamn reason the company trying to buy the Thrash is called True North. However, I know one day I will be like the crying Coyotes fan at the end of their series, or the already grieving fans on the Thrashers HFBoards. That day of reckoning will come for my Bills and there will be nothing a useless fan/blogger will be able to do about it. So what the hell do I do?
"Come on Kid, you know the right choice..."
I fear the day is fast approaching where I drop the Bills and let the Sabres stand alone atop my adoration pedestal. That day may or may not be October 1st, 2011.....
Sidenote: this rant was brought to you by Ebethron by The Sword. Metal, as always, FTW.