Dear God Why Us Sports
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I hath few fucks remaining, but those I have, I give to thee. Or, Good Christ, Sabre Noise, you are trash.

6/22/2016

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The Barrister​

It's the Sabres offseason - when is it not, frankly - and when it's the Sabres offseason, one can rest assured that they'll have a daily menu of trash takes on which to dine if, as it suits you, your preferred meal includes equal parts "this guy took 7 years to graduate from high school" and "this guy spends too much time on bar stools in the City of Tonawanda." Granted, I have no clue whether either of these specific character traits apply to Richard Spalding, the author of the offending collection of nonsense words and punctuation marks that drew my attention today, but the fact that a reasonable reader cannot discern whether "failed sophomore year three times" and "Tonawanda's Skip Bayless" are accurate descriptions of Spalding is telling in and of itself. 

These takes were so hot, honestly, I figure Harry Caray is planning to hold his show from right in their center next week. Like the saying goes, when life gives you trashy ass lemon opinions, you gotta make some trashy ass FJM lemonade. 

(Note that @2ITB already did one on this and it's basically the clean and polite version of many of the opinions I share, written in a manner - i.e. non-sarcastically and entirely calmly - that I have the inability to mirror every time I dial up weebly [dot] com. You should probably read his stuff before mine, always, as a general rule of thumb.)

The godforsaken text of this godforsaken target of my early-onset mid-life crisis male rage is below; my analysis (read: dumbfuckery) is in bold and sometimes in all caps at such moments as may tickle my fat ass fancy. 
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[Tagline:] The Buffalo Sabres may not have given up much for this kid’s rights, but anything is too much when it comes to a situation like this.

Does the kid, like, not know how to play hockey? Murder someone? Rape someone? Is he a big fucking asshole? Are you a big fucking asshole? We already know that I am, but just saying - what. a. lede. 

Certainly we are in for a treat (we are certainly not). 

Not to belabor the point, but wow. The line in the sand is a (Richon) stark shot to the heart. Anything is too much. We do not negotiate with terrorists. This is not a game (it is a game), it is serious business. ANYTHING. IS. TOO. MUCH. 

Pro Tip: writing about sports in terms of ultimatums and the like is the first sign you've failed as a human. If Jimmy Vesey isn't, like, one of the villains from 'Preacher' or some suburban Massachusetts jihadist, this is all going to be an logical let down, Rich. 


All right: I’ve taken a few days to sleep on the trade that sent a third-round pick to Nashville just so the Buffalo Sabres could acquire the rights to Jimmy Vesey.

YOU SLEPT FOR DAYS, ME JELLY.

I’ve read FanSided NHL Division Director Tim Redinger’s thoughts on why it should not bother fans that the Sabres gave up a third-round pick in order to sit down with this kid.

Honestly, if you needed to read anything at all to get a take on why fans should not be bothered by the Sabres giving up one of four Third Round draft picks to have even a marginally better chance at landing a player who was drafted in the Third Round four years ago and has only gotten better since, I don't know. 

Also, please read other blogs and websites, too. Like, say, www.deargodwhyussports.com. There's a piece up there right now on why anyone bent out of shape about the Jimmy Vesey trade are mutated blends of a fuckstick salad and cream cheese. 


​I’ve tried to justify this gamble by entertaining thoughts of the Buffalo Sabres parading Lord Stanley’s Cup through the streets of Buffalo in a grand victory parade.
  1. Gambles imply risk and I fucking dare you to point to the thing that the Sabres have risked here. It's like saying I have undertaken a risk by trading my Honda CRV (come at me) for another Honda CRV while, at the same time, my garage ALREADY HAS THREE OTHER HONDA CRVs TO SPARE. Christ. 
  2. While you're at it, I fucking dare you to point to the Third Round prospect in this year's draft who you'd want more than Jimmy Vesey. 
  3. You "entertained thoughts of a Stanley Cup Parade" which is a nice turn of phrase, I grant you, especially when it's utility is covering up the weirdness of your need to wrack your brain to justify the Sabres trying to get a fucking Hobey Baker winner who went 24/22 in 33 games for Harvard, a school that has not had such a winner since nineteenfuckingeightynine (the last time Harvard won the NCAA, mind you; Harvard's team this year was not nearly as good, making Vesey's achievement a GD ACHIEVEMENT). 
I have done all that and more . . . and I still cannot shake the feeling that the Buffalo Sabres have made a mistake by making a play for this kid.

Look: Jimmy Vesey is a talented player.  Could be a great kid. Either you have done zero google searching on this or you are ignoring the results. He is a great kid. Ostensibly. Full stop. It’s entirely understandable why Sabres fans are dreaming of a Vesey – Jack Eichel – Sam Reinhart line.  I get it – two Hobey Baker Award winners on the same line, alongside Reinhart, who had almost as good a 2015-16 season as Eichel did.  Everyone’s thinking about Buffalo becoming the next city to pull a Cleveland and bring a major sport championship into the 716.

I realize Facebook and twitter were awash with "ok now can it be our turn" after the Cavs won Sunday, but a Sabres Cup win would not be "pulling a Cleveland" anymore than your website can be deemed to have "pulled a DGWU" simply by writing about Buffalo sports. Besides, any Sabres fan worth a damn is always dreaming of the Sabres "pulling a Buffalo" (see?) and breaking the goose egg out of the Championship win column. Cleveland's win has not appreciable impact on those dreams - though certainly on the frequent expression of them for about 24 hours after Sunday night; nor did their win have any appreciable impact on our willingness to use our brains and assess this Vesey trade for what it is. We did not become idiot and impatient assholes after the LeBron kept his promise to his hometown. You're thinking of yourself. 

That’s all well and good, but have we all forgotten about Jonathan Drouin, the kid who tried to strong-arm the Tampa Bay Lightning into trading him this season?  No one forgot about Drouin. It simply did not occur to us that his situation was relevant to our assessment of Vesey because it's not relevant to our assessment of Vesey and also we are not insistent on being wrong. I seem to recall a number of Sabres fans remarking that they would not want a kid like Drouin playing for the Sabres, (what number of Sabres fans? 5? 10? Less than 20? I want a fucking number because I want to tell them all to go fuck themselves as well)  because of his attempts to force his way out of a situation he didn’t like.  When a young player such as Drouin tries to play hardball, despite the fact that he really has not earned the right to dictate the terms of his employment just yet, that player comes across as entitled, the reason why people feel the need to remind everyone that there is no “I” in “team.”

People feel the need to remind everyone that there is no "I" in team because Americans love cliches and are also terrible at spelling. 

People applauded Lightning GM Steve Yzerman for refusing to be manipulated by Drouin and his agent, and in the long run, being banished to Tampa Bay’s AHL affiliate, the Syracuse Crunch, and then suspended for refusing to report, wound up being just the kick in the ass that Drouin needed, as he turned in an inspiring performance in Tampa Bay’s playoff run.

Drouin violated the terms of his contract. Vesey exercised his rights under the CBA and had, you guessed it, not signed a contract. Comparing these two situations is such an obnoxious stretch of logic that I can only assume Rich here had already begun his tour de force on why a hot dog is not a sandwich based on the fact that the TARDIS is bigger on the inside. 

One has nothing to do with the other.


So if people were turned off by Drouin’s power play and supportive of Yzerman’s refusal to bow down to a still-unproven player, why are they suddenly onboard the Jimmy Vesey bandwagon?

Because the situations are so starkly different that sentient beings who like Sabres hockey have come to a conclusion so confounding as to confuse this fucking fungus. 

Please don’t tell me the circumstances are different here they are – if anything, what Vesey is doing is worse (it's not), because the kid has not played one damn game as a professional hockey player yet (that's the relevant metric? Huh), and he is already on a power trip (explicitly permitted by the CBA and implicitly permitted by the Predators' failure to lock him into a deal before this year). At the very least, Drouin could boast of being the third-overall pick in he draft, and that he had been a good soldier in his first year in Tampa Bay (he, however, could not boast any legal right to his course of action, unlike Jimmy Vesey).   It’s still a BS argument, mind you – but it’s leaps and bounds better than what Vesey is doing (except in the sense that it was illegal and he was never going to get away with it, while Vesey already did).

And don’t tell me that college players skipping the draft and becoming UFAs is a trend that we all have to get used to (You know what? I won't tell you that! Because Jimmy Vesey didn't skip the draft!) – this doesn’t happen in any other professional sport in North America (not to my knowledge, that is) (lmgtfy.com) and it doesn’t have to happen in the NHL.  The league and the players union need to get together and find a way to keep this sort of power play from happening, but in the meantime, teams such as the Buffalo Sabres need to stop rewarding young players who have done nothing at the professional level from enjoying a perk that is not even enjoyed by players who have put in three years!

Man, fuck the Sabres for wanting to "reward" a player, i.e. sign him to a contract delineating an agreement to exchange money for hockey playing, when that player exercised his rights under the document governing player contracts. The Sabres suck. 

Also, the Sabres have to "stop rewarding young players who have done nothing at the professional level from enjoying a perk that is not even enjoyed by players who have put in three years?" They've done this before? No? This is just rhetorical nonsense aimed at inciting those portions of the fan base eager to throw shade at anything this club does? The author of these words has the insight of a jar of marmalade?

Fish in a barrel fam. 


Think about that for a moment: Jack Eichel, who played 81 games in his rookie season, will not be able to enjoy the perks of being an RFA until the end of the 2017-18 season.  If we assume that the Sabres sign Eichel to a long-term contract (say five years or longer) in the summer of 2018, when will Eichel be able to enjoy the freedom of being a UFA – 2023?  At the earliest?

Oh, so this is about equity in player freedom? Not freedom to exercise one's contractual right s like Vesey did, mind you, but Jack's rights. Because reasons. 

And Sabres fans are okay going after a college kid who is demanding the perks of being a UFA NOW?  I mean, yes, since him being a UFA and also a pretty good hockey player means he could be a Buffalo Sabre rather than a Nashville Predator. All because he might help the Sabres become a playoff team?  YES. BECAUSE OF THAT. THAT IS WHY WE ARE HERE YOU TROGLODYTE. Drouin had the same potential, and most fans would not have touched him with a 20-foot pole.  Application denied. Cheering that the Sabres might convince Vesey to play for Buffalo is extremely hypocritical, and I just can’t get excited over this. Try harder, mutant. Or don't. Whatever. Take a walk. 

I understand that even as a UFA, Jimmy Vesey will only be allowed to sign an entry-level contract, but this whole thing stinks to me, even if it is allowed by the current CBA.  In one sentence you breezed right through the two primary reasons this should not bother anyone who cares to make proper use of one's god-given faculties. One sentence to brush aside the context that is inescapable in its ability to make Rich Spalding look like a peal-clutching troll. Also, as an aside, Vesey's choice - as per my own internet reading - means that he can't burn a year on his entry-level deal, something that Nashville could have done for him. So, less money in other words. POWER PLAY. Vesey may well become the next Jack Eichel, but I have a really difficult time endorsing his power play just months after condemning Drouin for trying to pull a stunt that is incredibly similar. Similar in that they're both hockey player; different in all other relevant respects.  If NHL teams such as the Buffalo Sabres continue to allow players like Vesey to skip the draft (which Vesey didn't, god why) and dictate where they begin their careers, then yes, this will be a trend moving forward.  It doesn’t have to be, though, and it doesn’t feel right applauding Buffalo’s pursuit of a player simply because “It’s my team.”  Fuck you, it's not your team anymore. You're off the island. It wasn’t right when Drouin did it months ago, it wasn’t right when Eric Lindros refused to play for the Quebec Nordiques way back in 1991, and it’s not right that Jimmy Vesey has strong-armed his way out of Nashville and is looking to become a free agent on August 15.

HAHASHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHA LINDROSS OH GOD THAT'S PERFECT. Nothing says well-thought-out, researched and written like repeatedly claiming a 2012 Draftee "skipped the draft," comparing him to a player who did something completely fucking different and who Sabres fans still would have loved getting, and then topping it off with the only other comparison considered relevant - Eric Fucking Lindross. In 1991. 

Delete your account, Rich.
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"And It's Been A Long Way, But We're Here" The Outlander's 2015-2016 Sabres Preview

10/6/2015

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The Outlander

Last time I wrote here, it was regarding the depressing, soul-sucking death march to 30th place and the hand-wringing, moral crusading, negative nancies and militant pragmatists that came with it. It was by far the least amount of fun I’ve had following this franchise for the last twenty-five years or so, and that’s selling it short; it was not fun at all. There was zero fun outside of the occasional gallows humor that comes with some of the worst hockey players in franchise history hockeying together at once.

Yet I’ll remember April 10th. I went to Orioles opening day with my girlfriend and her friends, a miserable 50 degree day where the Blue Jays crushed the home team - much like they would to clinch the division title less than six months later - before we started barhopping. Shortly before some hardcore browning and blacking out between the two of us respectively, in the last final seconds before my phone died, I refreshed my score app continuously to see the Sabres lose to Columbus. It was glorious. Aside from the guarantee of McEichel, it was such a relief to just be proven right after doubling down on the certainty of 30th the entire season. As any borderline narcissist knows, things like that are victories in themselves.

The Sabres, regardless of the reasons for excitement that I assure you I’ll get to, are in a peculiar position they haven’t found themselves in for some fifteen years: that of afterthought. This is Bills time, and it will continue to be Bills time until that team’s season has either run its course or stomped on our hearts (nice start Sunday btw), forcing us to return in November or December to the team that has been our salve, our dependable solace for more consecutive football seasons than we’d care to address. It is that dependability, that wins help numb the pain of a previous Sunday’s disappointment and even losses (it’s a long season and what do you want, they were dead last two years in a row) help get us through the time in between those Sundays that for now just seem like such an insufferably long time.

I feel for many of us born in a certain window, who came of age in Western New York at a certain time, have felt more connected to the Sabres than the Bills mostly due to results. On my 15th birthday I watched from my Grandparents house as the Sabres took a 3-1 series lead over the Leafs in the Conference Finals. Two nights later my Mom dropped a friend and I off at the old Tops on Young in Tonawanda (now a Big Lots/Subway) just as Game Five started. The store played the game on the PA system and we got to hear RJ’s voice call the comeback victory and trip to the Stanley Cup Finals. To pass the time throughout the night, a large group of fans taught us Euchre, a game I’d play pretty much every lunch period for the rest of high school.

Despite being numbers three and four in line, the antiquated system at Tops was too slow when the tickets went on sale. Didn’t help that the two middle aged guys in front of us bought four tickets to each home game but when it came our turn, my friend got one ticket to Game Three, me one ticket to Game Four. I was dropped off at the foot of Washington Street while my Mom and Grandfather went to Coca Cola Field to watch the game on the scoreboard. I’ve been to many games afterwards and maybe seen better teams, but the noise when Sanderson scored on a breakaway in that game (the only home Cup Final win in forty years) was the loudest I’ve ever heard that arena.

I was hooked. Seven years later I was on the precipice of graduating college and was #blessed enough to have some of the best weeks of my life tied into the most exhilarating run a Buffalo team has given us in a generation. I got to watch Game 1 against Philly in the last row of the arena, where my first hug was not my girlfriend but the stranger who shared his nachos with me (and brought HIS girlfriend). I got to watch the Sabres murder that finesse team day drinking before a house party, I got to watch Game 1 against Ottawa at a Quad Party at Canisius, Game 3 from the Bonaventure Golf Course Clubhouse with over a hundred folks jammed four rows deep behind the bar to squint at the one small TV in the corner. Game 5 was the night before graduation, slip n’ sliding down a hill in the rain afterwards, warming up that chill at a bonfire until 5am with fifty friends who just didn’t want morning to come before my girlfriend told me “Matt you graduate in four hours.”

I listened to the Drury game in a tiny townhouse bedroom at Penn State, Property book open but used only to rest my elbows as I leaned as close to my speakers as I could, hoping for a miracle that, for once, came. I watched the mad rush to the postseason in 2011 in a dive bar in Barre, Vermont and welled up when the Flyers inexplicably played for a tie. And April 10th this year I high-fived people in Baltimore over a loss, the meaning of which they couldn’t understand. But it started long before all this.

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Pretend the title of this post is just the Fire Emoji.

9/16/2015

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The Commander

I really wasn't sure how to open this...because I'm writing it with some serious rage. My creativity isn't quite flowing past the bile that I'm gagging on at the moment. 

I'm a pretty nice guy, I try to be respectful of people and stuff. I limit my criticisms to open ended subtweets and passive aggressive shit, I try to stay away from the SJW type stuff that a lot of people get involved in, not because I don't believe in a lot of the good people are trying to do or because of my own values. I'm just not really that type of person. 

But man, when you take something I love and enjoy like oh..... Sabres hockey and make a complete mockery out of it, man I get a little punchy. 

This one's been building up for awhile, but it's coming to a head these past few weeks. 

It's time to face facts. The off-ice department of the Sabres is a complete fucking embarassment. 

I'll start with the easy thing: the decision to not live stream the Prospects Tournament. This is a layup for me to be mad about. 

I don't live in Buffalo, I can't go to this fucking thing and buy hot dogs and beers and hats. Does that make me any less of a fan? Does that mean I shouldn't be able to follow the prospects that I've been waiting on for a few years while the actual garbage hockey team was dressing waiver wire fodder and trading away actual good players to get these kids? 
 
The frustrating thing about this is that I know it's not a financial decision. It can't be, right?? I mean, there's a literal plaza and complex of hockey related shit down there that cost 14 billion dollars. There's a sports bar that draws a buttload of people. I know, even aside from the fact that the owner is a kajillionaire, they can't be hurting for money. 

If you're not going to stream it as a decision of some type? Just tell me why. I might not (ok, there's no way I would) accept your reasoning, but at least I'd know why you're being dickish about it. And hey, if I'm wrong and you want to squeeze money out of people, I'll pay $10 to watch the tournament online, because I'm stupid as shit. Give me the option. Give me SOMETHING besides ignoring the outcry and telling me it's on the shitfucking radio like I want to watch Phil Housley and this is 1982. 
 
Otherwise, I'll just happily sit here and point out that the fucking Nashville Predators, in the smoking hot hockey hotbed of NASHVILLE FUCKING TENNESEE is streaming theirs. 


That's the easy one, EVERYONE is pissed about the streaming thing. 
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Oh but there's more...there's SOOOOO much more. 

How about trying to buy merchandise from the Sabres Store when you live out of state? I just bought a jersey from there a couple of weeks ago. The process itself is easy, you call up, tell them what you want, the person goes to check stock, confirms said stock, takes your info and places the order.   

You see the problem I have is that I was charged $25 for shipping UPS Ground on a $180 order. Look here Sabres, I understand that you're not Amazon and don't have your own logistics company to offset the cost of doing this type of business. I mean, sure, charge me for shipping if you need to. But $25 for standard UPS is fucking ridiculous by itself... let alone when I'm spending $180. Also, since I don't live in the area, I can't take advantage of any sales that the Sabres Store has, so maybe free shipping on a $100+ order is a nice gesture, I dunno...I'm a sucker for trying to support my fucking team. I just don't want to get bent over so thoroughly when I do so. 

My retail spending habits aside, HOWEVER... The biggest, and most egregarious problem with the Non-Hockey portion of the Sabres office is the god damned Twitter account.

The motherfucking Twitter account. The cringe-inducing, make your butthole pucker up nice and tight while you follow along with it Twitter account.
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I'm not sure when this all started, and I'm certainly not the first to voice the dissatisfaction here. If you want to go back a few years even, I believe most people started to take notice of this when the account started egregiously retweeting shit like OMG IM AT THE SABERS GAME WITH MY BESTIESS!!! during games instead of providing any sort of game information whatsoever. The outcry over this eventually led to the creation of a different account for this pandering nonsense, which I guess is fine if you get off on being noticed by the Sabres Twitter account for showing up to a game - that's cool, you deserve it after the last few years. Go nuts. 

It's not that the Sabres Twitter is BAD. (Yes it is).  I mean it serves its purpose in a very basic way. It tells you there's a game tonight, it gives you some video of the players telling you they need to go out and give 100% and all the other cliched nonsense that the media drags out of those guys. That's fine, I'm ok with that - it's important. 

God forbid the Sabres Twitter actually had some decent original content to push out to us, though... funny videos, getting to actually KNOW the players, things like that. Other teams do this. Other teams EXCEL at fluff pieces like that - they get the players to buy in and do skits, and all sorts of fun things. I know the Sabres have some seriously talented people working in the Team Coverage department - shit, Kevin Snow was awesome before he left for greener pastures, Ian Ott is a totally normal dude who seems to get it, no other team has someone as dedicated to coverage of the teams' prospects as Kris Baker, Chris Ryndak was one of the most insanely talented bloggers in the Sabres blogosphere before he was hired. 


The problem is, you don't seem to hear from these quality gentlemen very often. The Sabres Twitter pimps the fucking hell out of that god awful Hockey Hotline show with those two idiots that host it - but I'd LOVE to see more original content from these talented people represented here. The blatant lack of self awareness of CK ANAL as he curates the content on @BuffaloSabres is what seems to drive everyone fucking nuts though. Holy fucking shit. When you're hosting a prospect tournament in your own barn, featuring one of the best hockey prospects of the past 15 years...your best play after the team decides not to stream it... is to tweet the most barebones information you possibly can with a vomit inducing amount of Emojis? 

We really can't do better than this? We can't find anyone better to run the public facing side of your social media presence than the person who uses the tool like you sat them in the "HERES WHATS COOL AND HIP ON TWITTER 2015!!" introduction class, gave them the password, and let them spam the red 100 emoji 15 times a tweet non-ironically? 
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Holy motherfucking shit. @BuffaloSabres is run like the Twitter for Applebees for fucks sake. I realize that the Buffalo Sabres are a #brand, but sports teams aren't like types of laundry detergent. They have history, they have colorful characters, they have a never-ending stream of #content. And I'm motherfucking insulted that your Twitter account panders to people like there's a buy one get one free sale on you at Target this week. 

Look, people who follow you already LIKE you. They've already "bought" the product. This nonsense like "no arena giveaways," "no web streams of shit," "no dressing up Patrick Kaleta like Shrek" needs to stop. I'm not asking you to be the LA Kings Twitter or whatever. I'm just asking you to not be the fucking Orbitz Twitter. It's a fucking embarrassment. Give me a sense that you actually know who Derek Plante *IS* when he's going to be on Hockey Hotline - he's a guy who scored one of the Top 5 Goals in the fucking franchise history by the way. Cover the prospects game better than your goddamned AHL franchise did for starters...that shouldn't be hard. Don't tell me the score of the fucking prospects game and in the same fucking tweet, spit in my fucking face and tell me I can listen to it on the radio like this is 1957 and Jack Eichel is crinkling paper to make fire sounds effects after he scores. Stop using Emojis non-ironically like a 13 year old girl who just figured out that they are a thing that exist on her fucking Hello Kitty iPhone. When the rest of the league is doing a #fun thing like watching the Mighty Ducks movie and tweeting about it, having fun, making jokes with each other - don't be MIA. 

Eyes are going to actually be on you soon and I'd prefer they know Jack Eichel as the motherfucking cock of the walk, not the USA flag Emoji. 

If you need any fucking help, and it's clear that you do, it's right down the hall - maybe you can Periscope your walk over there: 

That's cute. #RockTheRalph https://t.co/e5prkIYg4c

— Buffalo Bills (@buffalobills) September 15, 2015
You can block me at @essbeeay if you're so inclined. I already know you're petty enough, and I already know I won't miss anything. 


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Like Smoking a Chicken Bone- The Death Throes of the '14-'15 Sabres

4/2/2015

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The Outlander

Last night I was on a date in the Fells Point area of Baltimore, my favorite spot for food and drink nightlife in the city- well, definitely drink nightlife, Canton has some great food places to offer as well. Anyway, I was relieved about this not simply because the beer list at Max’s Taphouse is the most exquisite of anywhere I’ve ever been, but because I wouldn’t be sitting on my ass feeling obligated to watch the Sabres and Leafs. Perhaps I could have requested it be put on but I’m not a sick individual; no, I would just check the score periodically during the night. My first two checks had the Sabres down 2-1 and 3-2 respectively; all was in order, everyone could back the fuck off the ledge and suddenly the 2-4 stretch would be down to 2-3.

Next check they were suddenly ahead and then the game was over. It was disappointing and I was eminently thankful I was not subjected to watch that hand-wringing farce let alone the tire fire that was sure to be my twitter feed, which has devolved in some deranged game of whack-a-mole, where every completely unhinged formally sane individual I have to mute simply results in finding two more  who have come down with some sort of space dementia like Buscemi’s character in Armageddon.
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"I think Howard and Jeremy are going to take my call- I got a good one!"
The discussion about this season should end on April 11th, but I realize that is a pipe dream. This has been an embarrassing chapter for everyone and only a sadist or a troll could ever use the word “fun” to describe this season (thank goodness the afternoon show on WGR is anchored by an individual meeting this description). This is a season full of days that feel like Thursdays but are really Tuesdays. This is a season where 140 characters is insufficient for nuance and however many words Tim Graham threw into his garbage article last week is far too many. Last Thursday’s win/loss against Phoenix (get some fans and then I’ll acknowledge your silly rebranding Arizona nonsense) may have embarrassed the players but it was the strongest evidence to date for all that #HockeyIQ stuff Ted Black won’t stop babbling on about whenever he gets near a microphone.

The question at the base of everything is one I find at the end of the day no one disagrees with. Having the opportunity to draft first or second in this draft will make the team better than not doing so will. The degree is something we can only speculate on but it certainly appears- and everyone with the intelligence to speak on such things seems to agree- that it will be a significant one. The drop off from McDavid/Eichel to say, Strome is noticeable to say the least. For a team that was putrid last year and is pitiful this year, it logically follows that that significant difference may ultimately mean the difference between the next relevant appearance for the team is the 2nd round in '16-'17 with McEichel or getting bounced in the first round in 17-18 with random third pick. It’s a reasonable assumption, just as people who point at the Red Wings or the Ducks as examples that there are more ways to do it are reasonable when they do so.

I think what bothers people the most at the prospect of losing a top-two pick is the McEichel way is almost certainly the most fun way to build a team. At the end of the day they are fun players, great players, and the insecurity under the very thin skin of the fans that have stuck around for every insufferable second of the eight-year elevator free-fall from Alfredsson’s wrister to cheering Phoenix’s winning goal aren’t wrong for wanting that. We’ve watched the other hometown team get its shot in the arm, get fun players, a fun coach, make following them exciting, interesting. We want something similar at First Niagara Center and I can’t blame anyone; it’s a lot easier to go through the slow climb back into daylight when whoever is leading it can make your jaw drop every single game.

So if we all can agree that we want the same thing, why is everything so awful? Well, as someone who has felt the heat wave of the hydrogen bomb takes emanating from Western New York all the way here between Baltimore and Washington, I have more than a few things to say. I really, REALLY wanted to let this season go by without a related post, so I could then pop up after 30th was clinched, giving the double middle fingers and we could all have a laugh. I’m also not one to tell people how to be a fan- outside of bandwagoning and/or carpetbagging- but this isn’t that; personally I think you can go to FNC and root your little hearts out for the opposing team, just as you can yell from the 300’s that Weber sucks in the non-bizarro world.

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Tim Graham is a Pompous, Sanctimonious Piece of Trash. MY COLUMN:

3/26/2015

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The Barrister

Listen. I am the absolute worst. This blog – this haven for hot takes under a veil of anonymity; this breeding ground for overwrought emotions and overwritten potshots; this once proud establishment of frequent musings on the State Of It All – it’s been dormant. This is my fault, and I’ll take all the credit, errrr, blame. I have been Captaining the U.S.S. Disaster for a few years now – HOLY SHIT, THREE YEARS – and I’ve permitted it to fall into a steady state of underuse.

Hell, the last time I wrote something here, it was a few hopeful paragraphs I shat out on the eve of the Bills’ improbable – fuck, IMPOSSIBLE – win against Green Bay, and even that seemed too much. I’m far less suited for this than I used to be – less angry, less energetic, less eager, more annoyed at the sound of my own thoughts in my increasingly muddled mind. I am certainly more busy.

But I’ve also been waiting. Waiting to feel anything about Buffalo sports again … anything new or sudden or interesting or wrathful or worth repeating onto a computer screen beyond 140 characters.
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YESSSSSSSS.

I don’t know that I’ve been waiting for this, exactly, but it seems as good a time as any to take a couple cuts in front of the mirror and see if Dougie can go deep again.  Hell, this may only be some easy BP before stepping back into the lineup, but my ability to string out metaphors to ungodly lengths is matched only by Tim Graham’s ability to take any topic, poop genuinely well-crafted sanctimony on top of it, and do so in such a way that makes you question whether the last time the guy had any fun was when Norwood went wide-right and a teenage Graham (I’m guessing) wrote 5000 words on why kickers are the Miracle Whip of sports – completely pointless and lacking any discernible quality beyond their traditional role in ruining Sundays.

It’s not even what he says, but how thoroughly awful he makes my head feel with the way that he says it. 

Wait. Actually it’s often what he says, too.

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Too Many Mooks - A 2014-15 Sabres Primer

11/11/2014

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The Commander

Greetings all!! I haven't blogged anything in a very long time, and for that I apologize. You see, when last we left me...I was happy, living in beautiful, warm California...enjoying life as much as I ever had. Funny thing that happens when you're with someone in the medical profession, they have to do internships and residencies for like 15 years after they pay six figures for the privilege of getting their degree. So you end up moving all over the country (and maybe even Canada!) while they're basically paid less than minimum wage and you never ever see them. This sort of vagabond lifestyle leads you to such exotic locales as my current home: Long Island. 

So here we are, cold, miserable, and I haven't left my house in like 6 days. What better time to fire up the old blogging URL and wax poetic about our favorite hockey team, the Sabres. 

First off, you need to go watch this or else the theme is going to be lost on you. If you haven't seen it, you can probably still follow along...but you should watch that video anyway because it's all sorts of brilliant and funny. 

And with that I present...



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The Deeg Podcast Industries Present ... Happy Endings with Barrister and Scizz - Episode 1

10/14/2014

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Our little website adventure has been a haven for negativity, as a rule, and it's about time we tried to change that paradigm. Born out of Scizz's brain, we're taking a crack at a weekly podcast aimed at being positive. Positive enough to keep Scizz motivated to stay in the business of producing oral internet content without slipping into a downward spiral of rage and infinite sadness.

Enough of sad stuff that keeps us yelling too much.

We bring you Happy Endings with Barrister and Scizz.

Hope you like it. No big deal if you don't. We'll try to keep getting better. 



Stream below, iTunes below, direct download here or here, RSS feed here. 
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The most #becauseitsbuffalo-iest piece of garbage that ever did buffalo. Buffalo. 

3/25/2014

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The Barrister

FOR. FUCK'S. SAKE.
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I don't subscribe to the Sabres email list - this email was sent to people who do, and the homie @Mechaphil tweeted it and has told me that he believes this is the first instance of any such emails while he's been signed up on this list for the last 6 or 7 years - but if I did, I would expect some degree of care and respect and, I don't know, not this fucking garbage. This email is (a) not hockey-related, (b) not Sabres-related, and (c) bullshit. 

Hockey Heaven this is not, assholes. 

This is a fundamentally asinine and abusive use of fan interest to increase revenue by a team that deserves far less fan interest than it currently gets. This is the Third Jersey of emails. This is the Big John shirsey of emails.  This is the Terry Pegula of emails.  

Monty Python would write sketches about stupid shit like this and we'd all laugh and it would be grand but instead THIS REALLY HAPPENED AND CHRIST YOU ARE AN AWFUL FRANCHISE.

When people ask me why DGWU Sports has basically become a soccer-and-soon-baseball website, at least until the Bills get going again, this is now going to the top of the list. This is inexplicable. 

You're now worse than the Bills, in almost every way. Congratulations. You did it.

Mr. Pegula, you've purchased a local hockey team that ought to be held in public trust, with community ideals held as sacred, and fan faith and love and interest cherished above all else.  Instead, not only do you not win, and not only do you show scarce signs that you have any fucking clue how to win, and not only do you miss the mark with team marketing more often than you hit it, but now this. It's so fucking easy to not be the corporate behemoth that treats its fan base as money trees to be slaughtered and left to waste, but I guess it's also equally easy to do exactly that.

We shouldn't be surprised. You've made your billions by raping the environment, and now decide to dig wells into your fan base, rip cracks into the foundation of a city's love for its team, and take whatever you can straight to the bank.  We don't even really know how inept the organization is, but we see signs enough to make us fear the worst. We ignore those signs out of little else than fear that these past 10 years might actually be the glory years when we're looking at the first pick in the 2035 NHL Draft, the Presidents Trophy and Divisional banners looking just as lonely as they do now.

I fucking love the Buffalo Sabres. But, as surely as I do, I hate the people insistent on ruining it. 

Fan goodwill is forfeit, you money-grubbing pieces of shit. If you wanted my attention, you've gotten it. Hell, maybe this will be a Sabres site again. I guess I was probably waiting for something like this.... maybe now I'll come here much more often to talk about how much I loathe you vile sacks of excrement parading as Buffalo's next generation of revitalization heroes.

Fuck you.
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The DGWU Sports CrapTastiCast - Episode 43: Deadline Day Douchebaggery!

3/7/2014

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Tim is unimpressed with our takes
Back with actual Buffalo sports talk in a Dear God Why Us? Sports podcast, The Barrister, The Outlander and The Commander form a critical mass of the Deeg and break down what happened with the Sabres over the last few days. Good God, it was messy and beautiful and let's do it again soon.

Musical interludes by way of The Jambrones, The Mooney Suzuki, Talib Kweli, Architecture in Helsinki and Basement Jaxx. Throw your hands up.


Download here or here. Stream below. Subscribe via iTunes below. Subscribe via RSS here. Do your thing the way you want it. 
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Farewell, #30

3/4/2014

0 Comments

 
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The Outlander

In the midst of what is, if not rock bottom for the Buffalo Sabres, at least the lowest any of us have experienced up until this point (have to always consider the possibility for things to deteriorate further), I can say from my observations that no one seems to be handling it particularly well. That is not to say that everyone is handling it in the same way, just that no one seems to be handling it well. Maybe a good way to handle a situation like the one the Sabres find themselves in doesn’t exist, at least not for the fans who follow the team closest and have done so for years. Everyone is pissed off at someone, or some group, whether that be ownership, management, or the media for using the vulnerability, confusion and disappointment of the team’s fans to push what in the end is nothing but rumors, conjecture, and scapegoats in an effort to prey on their attachment to the team for page views and newspaper purchases. The fire sale was always coming, yet its arrival has brought fewer calm and reasonable voices than it has frenzied debates that have no winners.

In the end it’s sadly appropriate that this is how Ryan Miller departs, an afterthought, overshadowed by larger front office and ownership disarray, being merely the first domino in the final gutting of a team that has been rotting from the inside for years. He couldn’t even have the transaction to himself, had to share the podium with a guy that had spent barely enough games here to constitute a full season, couldn’t have the final home game before the deadline to himself, getting yanked from the lineup with most fans in traffic on the way to the FNC or downing their pregame wings and beer at Cobblestone. Aside from the RT’s of the St. Louis Blues twitter- which aren’t in any way as interesting or applicable as some think- the discussion has already shifted to who’s next, what’s next for a team that seems at once to be rudderless and piloted by capable hands. Discussion about what Miller looks like in a Blues jersey, or says about his new home, or produces for his new team is only relevant in what conditional draft pick the Sabres end up receiving in return.   I’ve never understood the purpose of keeping a dossier on a player’s actions following his departure to a new place, I think it’s far better to look back at the time he was here, the times we got to watch him and remember how lucky we all were for that.



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