TheComeback- Ho Chi Minh City and Long An were tied 2-2 late in a recent soccer match in Vietnam. The two Vietnamese league opponents played a spirited affair, until Ho Chi Minh City was awarded a penalty kick for a foul inside the box.
The Long An players were understandably not pleased with the call, and took their collective outrage to the next level… by refusing to play. Seriously. They barely even moved an inch after the first goal against them was scored. Look, I get it. The feeling of having the deck stacked against you by poor officiating can kill anyone's competitive spirit, and - judging by the quickness in which they threw their proverbial hands up and went full 'IDGAF' - I would venture to guess that this referee was having a particular...uhhh...lopsided day. That said, wouldn't it make more sense to actually be...ya know... losing prior to full-on quitting. The goalkeeper may have consider his decision to turn his back on the go-ahead goal a "protest", but - just like most protesters - he didn't do all he could to prevent the loss before making a public spectacle out of complaining about it. I guess I can understand giving up the 4th and 5th goals when time was dwindling in a sport in which goals are hard to come by, but that penalty kick was so far from being a snipe that the goalie could have stopped it and saved his team's chances with nothing more than a Daria-esque effort. I'm all for making a mockery of a game that was compromised by suspicious whistleblowing, but laying down and taking it when the referees decide to non-consensually fuck you should only be 'Plan B' when overcoming their assault on the integrity of a game is still a distinct possibility. Call me crazy, but the one requirement of becoming a sore loser should probably be that you're already losing.
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A Brazilian Soccer Player Left The Field In Tears After Being Peppered With Racism From The Crowd2/21/2017 FTW- During a Serbian SuperLeague game between Partizan Belgrade and Rad on Sunday, Partizan’s star midfielder suffered a horrific slate of racist abuse, according to his club’s statement:
Partizan Belgrade’s Brazilian midfielder Everton Luiz leaves the field in tears on February 19, 2017, at the end of a Serbian championship match between Partizan and Rad, after racist remarks from Rad’s supporters. Every time he touched the ball, 28-year-old Everton Luiz was being monkey-screamed from a group of supporters of Rad Belgrade, the source said. Shortly before the end, the match was briefly interrupted when Rad supporters also waved a banner with an insulting message against the Brazilian. Luiz, refusing to take any more of the abuse, showed his middle finger to the crowd, which ignited a brawl between the two sides. Once that was broken up, Luiz left the field in tears. He was defiant after the game, though, refusing to let the racist fans win. “I’ve been suffering racist abuse during the entire 90 minutes and also was upset by the home players, who supported that. They were all attacking me. I want to forget this as soon as possible. I love Serbia and the people here, that is why I cried. But please say no to racism.” Obviously the saddest aspect of this incident is that there are still a significant enough amount of people that feel so comfortable being openly racist in 2017 that they sat in an insanely public place making complete asses out of themselves by howling like primates. That said, a close second is that those social misfits - that somehow managed to form an entire cheering section of bigoted group thinkers - got what they wanted. When Everton Luiz flipped off the crowd before leaving the field in tears, he conceded the victory to the discriminatory drunkards that were "oooooh-oooooh" and "ahhhhh-ahhhhh"-ing like the obnoxious child at the zoo who inevitably gets orangutan shit flung his way. Now, the hecklers aren't winning at life and - given their propensity to do malicious shit in front of the masses - they are likely taking a lot of L's professionally, but they won that "exchange" when their inappropriate words and actions finally got under the skin of a vulnerable soccer player. It would be pretty fucking disingenuous of me to tell a minority that had a section of a stadium disparaging him for his shade of skin throughout the entirety of a match how to react to blatant prejudice, but I wish he was able to fight back his completely legitimate emotions just so these cocksuckers didn't end up getting exactly what they wanted. Those fans left that game feeling the sickest sense of accomplishment, and that makes me almost as mad as the fact that there are people who not only think it's still okay to compare those with darker skin to monkeys but also think it's super clever to do so. P.S. I was unaware that the ape insult was used towards Brazilians as well, but I guess when you're playing in front of a bunch of ghostly pale motherfuckers in Serbia then any skin color that isn't translucent is basically deemed as black as the night sky.
Hey, we've all been there. You get put on the spot, a little too much truth dribbles out, you verbally (hmm, shall we say....) "flop" in front of the entire office, and all the sudden everyone you work with (hopefully temporarily) thinks you're an idiot/asshole. We are all familiar with the flavor of our own foot so I don't want to be too harsh here, but Vlade Divac should probably feel a twinge dumber than Bill in sales did after talking too freely about Karen in accounting's sudden weight gain. Those size 23's probably can't get shoved deep enough down the esophagus of the Vice President that just casually admitted that he is woefully incompetent at thee most important aspect of his high profile job. With great power comes great responsibility, so I don't think asking the man in charge of one of the most hopeless franchises in all of sports to bite his tongue when it comes to discussing the day-to-dysfunctional-day operations of a dumpster fire is too absurd of a demand. If you know enough about sports to be able to pick a basketball out of a lineup than it's more probable than not that you already knew that the Sacramento Kings got taken to the woodshed by an exchange that undoubtedly makes the emasculated world leaders feel better about the outcome of getting dapped to hell and back by Donald Trump. For that reason, it was nearly impossible for Vlade Divac to make things worse. If there's ONE positive to being a completely inept executive it's that the stupidity of your personnel decisions is supposed to speak for itself worse than any 7 foot Serbian ever could. Somehow Vlade Divac's random act of unnecessary disclosure dug out a basement under rock bottom. It was no secret that the Kings spent damn near two full seasons getting far more enticing offers than the one they eventually accepted, but 36-48 HOURS prior?!? That was such a moronic, tone deaf thing to say that I almost have to believe he only said it because he was focusing so hard on not saying it. My deepest sympathies go out to him for getting put in a fucking bodybag by the moment, but you can't take pot shots at a former player for contributing to a "losing culture" as the guy who actively sabotaged the team he runs...
PFT- Former Lions defensive back Stanley Wilson II had been arrested while naked for the third time in less than a year, and the second time in little more than a month.
Via the Associated Press, police in Woodburn, Oregon arrested Wilson after he attempted to force his way into a home, and then disrobed. When police arrived, Wilson emerged naked from a shed. Wilson was taken to the Marion County Jail. Last June, a homeowner shot Wilson during a similar incident. In January, he was arrested after being found outside a Portland residence without clothing. I want to make it very clear that it's inherently wrong to joke about something as awful and debilitating as head injuries....before I start making jokes about head injuries. Seriously though, isn't it amazing what we've been able to do with the wealth of knowledge regarding CTE? I know that the NFL hasn't made their product safer in any real, tangible way and they certainly haven't been too keen on instituting the protocol that they, themselves, halfhearted set forth to convince people they actually care about the players' health. However, they did gift those same players one big ass benefit of the doubt. Did you even need to read the whole story to know that this dude laid one too many blindside hits across the middle while looking down at the missed opportunities for interceptions that cut his career short? I know I didn't. There is absolutely no charm associated with getting arrested in your birthday suit for a THIRD time in a calendar year, and getting cuffed with your dick out shouldn't be a punishment with wavering long term effects. Especially when the second time was less than a month go and apparently involved the most forgettable gun shot wound of all time. That's why it was pretty obvious that Stanley Wilson suffered from concussions long before Roger Goodell's least favorite c-word made an appearance in the article. At the end of day he's still made a habit of getting hauled off to the precinct with his dignity washed, pressed, and folded nicely at home on his dresser, but at least he's got a preemptive pass for doing it because any behavior that outlandish has to be a direct result of NFL employment. That may be bad news for the league, but it's pretty good news for all the former players planning to pursue nude kleptomania post-retirement that don't actually have the compromised cognitive abilities to justify it. Make sure your crime reaches a certain level of preposterous and we don't even need to see the results of the CAT scan to determine that football-induced brain damage was more than just an accomplice. A KHL Reporter Literally Had To Eat His Own Words With A Spoon After A Guarantee Gone Awry2/20/2017 PuckDaddy- A hockey writer in Belarus has been forced to literally eat his own words after his playoff predictions proved incorrect.
Vyacheslav Fedorenkov, who covers the Kontinental Hockey League (KHL) for a leading Belarusian sports paper, Pressball, claimed Dinamo Minsk would fail to make it to the postseason, but the team’s strong results left him eating more than humble pie. With a paper napkin tucked neatly into his shirt as he sat at the Minsk Arena press centre, Fedorenkov worked his way through an unconventional pairing of soup and a four-page issue of Pressball from February 2016, when he first made the fateful promise, according to the website Naviny.by. Minsk have won nine of their last 10 games in the regular season, which wraps up Saturday, placing fifth in the Western Conference. The KHL is traditionally dominated by Russian powerhouses. Dinamo coach Craig Woodcroft, from Toronto, On., watched on alongside local reporters. “I will remember his deed every time I enter this room,” the former Team Canada player said, according to BBC Sport. For his part, Fedorenkov said he will be more careful about his promises in the future. “Don’t joke like this and don’t make such promises, because they are pretty difficult to deliver.” This may seem counterintuitive since I am proved wrong far more often than this one single time I am choosing to publicly admit occasional defeat simply because it supports my point, but I am totally in favor of this becoming a thing. I can't say I have a strong desire to eat a hot lunch fresh from the presses, but I would gladly introduce some faulty ink to my diet if it meant that every other sports personality agreed to do so as well. I'd have to hold my nose with the endless amount of bull I have crapped across my keyboard, but it would be well worth it to have FS1 turn into a 24 hour live stream of Skip Bayless and friends devouring their intentionally trashy takes out of a dumpster. Let's face it, not even Lance Armstrong looks like as much of a jackass in retrospect as those that form steadfast opinions on the future performances of athletes partaking in competitions that are only predictable in the sense that Las Vegas always ends up winning. Having to shamelessly own your half-baked hindsight is an unavoidable occupational hazard of being overly invested in sports but not being nearly talented enough to be to do your radicalized talking from a professional field of play. I'll tell you this though - I don't think it would take too many rectal paper cuts to clean up the state of sports media. You can bet your bloody asshole that the sharp edges of that paper would dull the boldness of the content if it's ingestion ultimately led to some messy digestion. I try to stay out of the business of getting constantly humbled, but I would dip my toes in if it meant that shameless sportscasters had to drowned in their candor-less sea of shitty, preemptive conclusions.
I know you're dying to ask it, so I am just going to come out and answer the most important question from the jump. Yes, I do - indeed - hate myself for the headline. I usually swear off of forced pun-ditry, but the idea of the most volatile figure in the NBA Boogieing his way on down to 'The Big Easy' has me so giddy that it's left me vulnerable to finding corny, parental pandering oddly appropriate. DeMarcus Cousins and the city of New Orleans are a match made in heaven. That is - of course - assuming that heaven is just packed to the gills with every vice imaginable, is a safe haven for danger, and has more nude women per capita than the entire continent of Europe like we all dream that it does. Certainly the on-court unification of likely the two most dominant, versatile big men in the league is what excites me most about a trade that bears a striking resemblance to an organizational highjacking. The instantaneous arrival of the New Orleans Pelicans - of all teams - as a contender with multiple larger-than-life superstars that have promptly provided intrigue should elicit a business-like basketball boner from even the most casual of fans. That said, the fact that DeMarcus Cousins is still in a compromised environment that lends itself to chicanery of the highest - and I do mean "highest" - order is nipping at it's heels as a close second. Whatever frustrations will be evaporated by playing for a semi-competent franchise that's at least masquerading as a team who is actively trying to win will be replaced by the trials and tribulations that come with doing so as a loose cannon in a city known for sparking fuses. Boogie is blessed to be out of Sacramento, but - considering he now calls the devil's playground home - the only way I see his temperament changing is by gaining relevance. I value the extracurricular entertainment that comes with watching sports, and that's why this move was the best case scenario for everyone except a particular team of publicists. I think I can safely say we all want to see someone as endlessly talented as DeMarcus Cousins finally play meaningful basketball, but I didn't want that to result from seeing him shipped off to a Belichick-esque locker room that was going to muzzle his personality. The Pelicans just went from a laughing stock to no-laughing-matter, but New Orleans can still French Quarterize the most stellar of reputations and make the most strong willed of men Fleur-de-leave their right mind. DeMarcus Cousins is undoubtedly the last person to throw another layer over the emotions on his sleeve, and - with Mardi Gras on the horizon - winter is fucking coming. In the most extreme of cases this could result in an NBA Championship or a goddamn prison sentence. The possibilities are as endless as my optimism that this unlocks Boogie's limitless potential or cracks the code on his own personal Pandora's box. Either way, must watch television is in our immediate future.
I thought I was safe. I thought I could take one night off from NBA All Star Weekend without missing anything awesome. What better night to do so then during a game in which a bunch of people who are really stretching the definition of the term "celebrity" were playing a brand of basketball that makes the Monday night, 11PM pickup game at your local gym look like a Popovich practice? Well, I guess I should have done a little more research on the rosters, because the second that Jarrius Robertson stepped on that floor it became only a matter of time before his infectious swagger lit the entire building up with smiles. If I had watched that shot in real time I would have already had my hands in the air and my back turned to the TV by the time it went in, because he might be a 14 year old whose constant battle with a rare liver disease makes him seem much younger, but he's got the indestructible perseverance and the ability to make you say "how?" that are eerily reminiscent of Steph Curry in MVP form. 'JJ' never misses an opportunity to exude positivity, so I genuinely think it would have been impossible for him to "rim out" when he had a chance to inspire others...again. Some people that aren't completely familiar with his story might think that what took place out on that court was the sports gods convening to uplift everyone that had their eyes on New Orleans, but it wasn't. That was just one kid - whose been dealt a pretty shitty hand by life - continuing to cross up his illness and rattle home mid-range J's right in it's goddamn face. Jarrius Robertson won the night, but anyone that's been keeping up should have already known that was going to happen when they saw him walking around the 'Smoothie King Center' leaving a trail of cheerfulness in his path. #ItTakesLivesToSaveLives
Ahhh, the age old question that dates all the way back to the days well prior to the modernization of goalie helmets - "hey ref, what the fuck were you watching?!" Sometimes it needs to be answered more than others, and one of those times is undoubtedly when the oversized person manning one of two obvious focal points on the rink is standing there just begging to take some vulcanized rubber to the face for a relatively extensive period of time. Oh well, there is some good news. Not only did Jake Allen make it out of a potentially dangerous situation unscathed, but the authoritative ineptitude that left him at risk proved - once and for all - that officials aren't just lying through their teeth when they say they didn't see a play that they botched beyond belief. Considering there would no reason not to blow the whistle in that scenario, I think it's time for all of us to come together and accept that peripheral blindness has become an epidemic in the referee community. I suggest you say a prayer for all of those that don the stripes before you lay your head down to sleep tonight, because they aren't as stupid as their farsightedness makes them appear. That might seem kinda harsh, but it's as much of a compliment as I can muster up after watching them stand there half asleep while giving Marty Brodeur a near heart attack... PFT- One thing has become clear in the 13 days since the Hall of Fame selection meeting: Even those who have opposed Terrell Owens’ enshrinement admit he’ll eventually get in. When he does, will he show up? Consider this exchange from T.O.’s interview with Mike Francesa of WFAN.
“God has something better in store, bigger and better than the Hall of Fame,” Owens said. “If I get in great, if I don’t, OK. The first two years, OK, cool, it would have been an honor. But after this year, when they keep moving the sticks in order for me not to get in, I’ve lost respect for the process.” “Harry Carson got upset and got to a point where he said, ‘I don’t care,'” Francesa said. “‘If they vote me in now I’m not going.’ When he got in he went. You’ll do the same thing. When they vote you in, you’ll go because you’ll be happy that you got in, and you will get in.” “I’m not Harry Carson,” Owens replied, “and I’m sure if you’ve done your research, everybody will tell you. And you just alluded to it earlier. I’m a different guy.” “Yeah, but you’ll go when you get in. You will. You’ll be happy.” “I’m a different guy,” Owens said. “I’m a special guy.” “So what are you saying now? You’re saying now you wouldn’t go if you get in now?” “I’m a committed guy. When I put my mind to something, I succeed.” “So what are you saying?” “I’m saying, if I get in, I get in. If I don’t, it’s not a big deal.” “But if you get in, you’ll go right? You’ll still acknowledge it and accept it, right?” “Don’t interpret anything. I’ve already given you my answer.” Let's start by stating the obvious. Terrell Owens will show up to his 'Hall Of Fame' induction when he is eventually voted in. That's not even up for debate. The fact that he was snubbed with the 2nd most receiving yards and 3rd most receiving touchdowns of all time is so preposterous that I wouldn't even have a problem with him boycotting the ceremony. However, if you think a person that enjoys the limelight as much as T.O. has it in him to decline an opportunity to stand on stage and talk about how great he is while a bunch of his accomplished peers are forced to watch and listen intently then you paid about as much attention during his playing days as the spiteful ass media did. If I learned anything from witnessing the entirety of his soap opera-esque career play out, it's that T.O. doesn't have to "respect the process" to celebrate T.O. He may not even know it yet, but he will be in Canton and he will be loving himself harder than any of Justin Bieber's exes ever could. That's not even the story here though. The story - to me anyway - is that Terrell Owens hasn't changed because he is still incapable of letting himself remain a sympathetic figure. Any and every football fan who is not a biased asshole, a vengeful reporter, or likely both is on his side, and what does he go and do? He provides everyone else an ever-so-slight rationalization for their dumbass decision. In fact, short of doing shirtless pushups and signing footballs outside of the 'Hall Of Fame' doors, implying that the 'Hall Of Fame' is no longer important enough for him to show up was the worst thing he could have done for his 'Hall Of Fame' candidacy. Their vote for who gets immortalized in a museum is basically the most prized possession of self important writers that can't separate the questionable content of a man's character from his superhuman successes on a football field, and T.O. essentially just called it a useless piece of shit. The overbearing idiots whose self worth is defined by nothing more than the ability to check some names on a ballet every year just had their authority questioned by the guy that was denied his rightful spot in history by their abuse of it, so at least next year we'll know why if Terrell Owens is left on the outside looking in.
Well, that was quick. Cheers to Parkway High School in Louisiana for committing themselves to running an ethically sound program for about as long as the average person commits themselves to their New Year's resolutions. That might come off as disingenuous, but 24-36 hours with a clear conscience is a pretty impeccable feat while looking out for the best interests of soon-to-be college football players in confederate flag country. I guess we probably should have seen this termination coming. After all, if the close-mindedness of Catholics has taught us anything it's that true morals come second to the antiquated teachings of the Lord, and Nick Saban is basically the second coming of Christ once you go far enough south of the Mason-Dixon. I have never been to rural Louisiana, but I'm pretty sure that having separate water fountains is more acceptable than trying to ban the head coach of Alabama football from literally anywhere. Hey, if we are looking at the bright side then at least David Feaster gets to leave with his dignity. It's probably the only thing included in his severance package and it's about as useful to success in his profession as having a quarterback make an appearance on the 'Dean's List', but it's something. Something that's not going to put too many kids into D1 programs, but something that should help him sleep better at night. That's it Philadelphia, you're officially on your own. I tried to defend you when Connor McDavid soberingly lost the edge that made for a nice, big buzzkill during his rookie season and people were quick to recreate the 'scratching my chin' emoji because of the team that he did it against...
I even doubled down on that defense when Brandon Manning's dumb ass told the superstar that I still think he inadvertently hurt that he did it on purpose. I truly believe he only claimed he was guilty to innocently get in the head of an opponent that needs nothing more than his legs for intimidation...
This though? This is where I draw the line. When grown men that support your team start showing up to away stadiums with derogatory puns stitched into their back I have to distance myself from the cause. I don't think every Flyers fan would spend actual money on honoring an injury that one of their players was only mildly responsible for, but - when your organization still embraces a style that was made popular when hockey was played without teeth and helmets - all it takes is one idiot to remind people of your reputation. So have at 'em Maroon. Mush Brandon Manning's face right into the ice if you have to, because the Flyers and their fans are so obsessed with bullying on Broad Street that they are literally too stupid to remain innocent...even after instances in which they actually, probably were.
I believe this is what those that have been tricked into going to McDonald's to pick up some slop after watching them manufacture a picturesque burger on their commercial call "false advertising". I'm not say that the NHL's disciplinary committee isn't concerned with protecting their athletes, but they are little bit messier in their execution than the title "Player Safety" would suggest. Plus, I think the officials should probably be recognized in the name if insuring the health of their buttocks is going to be the priority when it comes to handing down suspensions. I don't want this to sound like I am excusing what Antoine Vermette did, because I have no problem with the NHL upholding the mandatory 10 game suspension for treating referees like dogs that have pissed on the floor when they drop the puck at an importune time. That's a smart precedent to set or officials would have to start showing up to games wrapped in insulation like the malnourished kid in 'Little Giants'. I just think that deterring a player from trying to hook an opponent through the face like a large mouthed bass is, at the very least, equally as important. All these on-ice transgressions are judged on a case-by-case basis so it is relatively stupid to contrast two instances that couldn't possibly be more different. That relativity gets tossed directly out the fucking window when the NHL concludes that a "do better" slap on the bum is more costly than stopping and thinking about it before attempting to use your stick to try to put a man's head on a kebab. To say that Gustav Nyqvist only deserved a 6 game suspension would be to downplay the fact that he would still be in a cell if he did something like while anywhere else but a hockey rink. Jared Spurgeon's seemingly unbreakable mug shouldn't have a parole-like effect on the punishment being dished out to guy who temporarily stopped playing a sport to audition for a starring role in a potential remake of '300'. This isn't fucking Sparta, so I don't think it's too much to ask to avoid unjust comparisons of injustice by levying a large enough penalty to show the casual observer that a reactionary love tap isn't considered more egregious than attempted facial reconstruction.
I got to be honest, I feel a little less insecure knowing that 'Greek Freak' isn't just an absolutely awesome nickname, but an accurate way of describing an athlete who is not of this world. Thinking that I shared a species with someone that can double clutch dunk from the foul line while my hands are barely scraping the bottom of the net was a little depressing, so - in a way - it's quite the relief that he's actually superhuman. I may not have majored in anatomy, but I don't need to see any DNA tests or check the results of his physical to know that those aren't human fingers. I don't care how genetically gifted someone is, their conception would have had to taken place during a pornographic installment of the movie 'Independence Day' to produce digits that were longer than their palm. Don't tell me I'm looking at someone that was the result of the normal insemination process when he legitimately looks like he has an extra set of joints in his fingers. Giannis Antetokounmpo might be a homo-superior, but he damn sure isn't a homo-sapien. That's fine by me because he's entertaining as all hell, but the only MVP award in his future stands for 'Most Valuable Paranormal'. Kind of weird to know that "they" officially walk amongst us, but at least we finally have a psuedo-scinetific explanation for plays like this one...
This Golf Photographer That Took A 145 MPH Drive Off The Belly Has No One To Blame But Himself2/16/2017
SportingNews- A golf photographer was lucky to walk away after getting hit by a 145-mph drive at close range.
Photographer Cy Cyr shared video of himself on Instagram getting nailed in the stomach by a golf ball during Graeme McDowell's Fantasy Golf Camp. Cyr said he's been a golf photographer for 20 years, but had never taken a hit. He also said the drive's speed was being tracked, so that's how he knew it hit him at 145 mph. Cyr is thankful for the extra padding his "big belly" provided. I think it's safe to say that under normal circumstances the golfer is to blame when the photographer - who is kneeling on the cart path about 30 yards up - gets nailed in stomach with a 145 MPH drive that looked to be headed for the kneecap of whatever animal happened to be passing through the forest. Unfortunately, snapping pictures of a guy nicknamed 'The Assassin' at a "fantasy camp" is not a normal circumstance. Christ, it's a miracle this guy lasted two decades behind the camera not reading the scouting report on his subjects. You don't stand on the tracks when the train is coming through and don't take a knee while in the scopes of a guy whose driver is essentially a sniper rifle. Don't get me wrong, that drive made some of mine look picturesque but now that I know the person swinging the club managed to get labeled with a murderous moniker while playing the preeminent "Gentleman's Game" I'm half surprised that snipe/shank didn't catch Cy Cyr (what a name) right between the eyes. He should let that welt on his impact resistant belly of his be a lesson to him. Even the people responsible for shooting the game tape should try watching it from time to time, because - while you never expect to run into a head hunter out on the fairway - professional success on any playing field requires preparation (or years and years of overeating). SportingNews- Glen "Big Baby" Davis and Doc Rivers won a title together in 2008, but the former player says don't give the coach so much credit for that win.
"What Doc had in ’08 was special and he was lucky as hell. Lucky as hell. The year before that they was wearing trash bags," Davis said. "But then the next year they win it, now he is one of the best coaches ever? I’m just not feeling that. You know what I mean? You give credit to KG [Kevin Garnett]. You give credit to Paul Pierce. You give credit to Ray Allen. Those are the guys who made sure whatever Doc needed to be done, got done. "And see now it’s easy for Doc to do his job. And then you give credit to [GM] Danny Ainge. That’s the one you give credit to. Because I know multiple times [Ainge] had to talk to Doc, just to say 'Hey, Doc, leave 'em alone. Hey, Doc, ease up.'" Davis said Rivers is a "great guy," but Davis clearly thinks people give Rivers too much credit. He confirmed that belief after Broussard asked, "Is he overrated as a coach?" to which Davis responded, "I think so." Say it ain't so Big Baby, say it ain't so! Are you implying that there is no such thing as great basketball coaches without great basketball players?! Wait, and does that mean that the coaches that aren't put in a position to work with superior talent are actually undervalued?! Shit, I'm going to have to give Phil Jackson a call. Hopefully he can reference the ten rings he won all by his lonesome and shed some light on this whole mess. Here I was thinking that leadership and skill were both requirements for success, but the bench player that spent a vast majority of his career playing under Doc Rivers just taught me they are - indeed - mutually exclusive by shitting all over his former coach's biggest accomplishment nine years after the fact. Safe to say Glen Davis' time in Los Angeles came to a bitter end, huh? What he's saying is definitely rooted in truth, but it's also completely out of the blue and a direct shot at the man who was responsible for cutting him from his last professional gig. Doc Rivers was undoubtedly lucky to have the original 'Big 3' at his disposal, but he's no luckier than any other asshole that took the reigns to a Championship caliber roster. Does anyone think that Tyronn Lue is a brilliant basketball mind, orrrrr did he just fall ass backwards into becoming LeBron's new puppet after the last guy got canned? Can't help but wonder whether or not Steve Kerr is "overrated" when his team went undefeated throughout the first 19 games of last season with Luke Walton at the helm. Sans Gregg Popovich, the NBA is full of coaches whose reputations are dependent on sharing a locker room with superstars. That's not even close to being a new phenomenon, and that's why Glen Davis should check himself - maybe then he would realize that his grudge is showing. My reaction in GIF form... I'm nothing if not self aware, so I'll be the first one to tell you that I would have found this expletive-fueled rant about Arsenal's struggles pretty insufferable if it wasn't delivered with a sweet ass accent. Whining about having problems with your ticket, asking for pity after traveling to support your club, not wanting your son to grow up watching a loser, and claiming you deserve better are all things that would make me roll my eyes if they were incessantly bitched into a microphone by some entitled New Yorker that thought the whole world was against him and his huge market team. That being said, I would absolutely love it if my own teams had uncensored YouTube channels that were completely devoted to giving outraged fans a public outlet for their anger. Fuck all the over-produced, politically correct PR stunts that all franchises in the four major sports broadcast to try to make fans forget about the dire straights their favorite organization is currently in. You know who felt a hell of a lot better after watching this video? Every Arsenal "blud" that had this same tirade waiting on the tip of their tongue. I can only imagine that giving a pissed off soccer fan a platform for his myriad of frustrations helped cool off some of the hooligans before they got to Green Street, and it was far more entertaining than watching fat, drunk Americans smash their flat-screens in hopes of going viral. I'm not the biggest believer in karma. There are far too many good things happening to bad people for me to think that the universe is out there maintaining a delicate balance for everybody. That said, I have officially concluded that - in terms of fate - stealing an opponent's stick in your own defensive zone is a very, very bad idea. I have no choice but to declare that the hockey gods are not fond of in-game robbery. I don't know if it's in the cosmos or whatever, but both instances in which I have seen a player get his stick jacked have almost immediately resulted in that player scoring a goal. Granted, that probably has a lot to do with the fact that twig thefts don't get a lot of viral love when they aren't accompanied by a comically ironic goal, but let the record show that by aggressively passing the lumber you're basically playing with imminent fire and almost guaranteed to get burned. But hey, don't take my word for it. Best of luck in making the third time the charm, but two times out of two is enough of a coincidence for me to avoid flexing on the prized possessions of others. If not because of the inevitable minus then because of the shame one feels from settling for sloppy seconds with their own stick after watching it get used and abused right in front of them... Tennis Player Genie Bouchard Paid Off Her Super Bowl Bet, And Is Probably Never Gambling Again2/16/2017
— Genie Bouchard (@geniebouchard) February 6, 2017
We all have to learn somehow. For most of us it happens when the Cleveland Browns kick a last second field goal and miraculously....cover a spread that hadn't seemed nearly as big as it was four hours prior, but we all get introduced to the perils of gambling at one point or another. Unfortunately for Genie Bouchard, her run-in with the seemingly malicious football gods ended up getting her a date with the type of person sitting on Twitter throwing up halftime hail mary's to second tier women's tennis stars during the Super Bowl. Hey, the good news is that she wasn't lulled into a false sense of security by winning a couple of last second wagers! Tough to plummet down the degenerate rabbit hole when you trip and fall face first right out of the gate. Nothing will remind you that sports are aggressively unpredictable like having to follow through on what seemed like one of the safest bets ever by flying a random dude across the country to go to - of all things - a goddamn Brooklyn Nets game. By all accounts, she hasn't been turned into a lampshade so everything appears to have gone smoothly, but I'll be damned if the disturbing thoughts that were going through her head prior to the date don't have a lasting effect on how quick she is to pull the trigger in the future. I don't know how good the 44th best female tennis player in the world is, but - after the anxiety she felt prior to meeting the stranger who had Tiger Woods as his avatar - I think even she would agree she's too damn good to be paying off cross country, spur-of-the-moment bets that were all risk and zero reward. Especially - ESPECIALLY - when they require her to make small talk over the backdrop of a home game for a team that has 9 wins. — Genie Bouchard News (@genie_news) February 15, 2017
AL.com- A Louisiana high school football coach said Wednesday the only school not welcomed on his campus is Alabama.
Parkway (La.) High School coach David Feaster told 104.5 ESPN his players can certainly join Nick Saban's Crimson Tide, but he isn't going to help Alabama recruit his kids. "LSU's welcome in my school anytime," Feaster said. "The only school that can't come to Parkway is Alabama. And there's a long story behind that, but it had to do with not being ethical in their recruiting. "They can't come. Everyone else is 100 percent welcome." Whew, it's about damn time someone took a stand to restore the morality in college football. Neil Armstrong just got to put to shame, because this right here is one small step for man and one giant leap for mankind. Seriously, the NCAA must be over the moon that one high school coach - out of hundreds of thousands - is making college football ethical again by instituting a needless ban to protect those that don't want protecting. Nick Saban probably had the most restless sleep of his seemingly miserable life worrying about whether or not David Feaster's push for a code of conduct would spread to other schools in the southeast. Taking away his ability to wander around campuses shaking hands and making empty promises would surely be a death sentence to the recruiting classes of a university that basically serves as a farm team to the entire NFL. No way 18 year old kids with limitless potential would ever consider committing to an institution without looking the weasel that may or may not uphold his end of the commitment in the eye. Risk putting their future in the hands of the head coach who loses one game per season during down years? HA! Good luck Alabama, because your ideals just put on notice in SEC country - where the well being of the kids always come before the well being of the football programs. TheComeback- The National Collegiate Athletic Association will find any way to keep money out of the hands of athletes. Now, that includes giving out $100,000 to non-athletes to tell them how to improve the lives of athletes.
The association has announced that it has awarded $100,000 in grants to various researches who “will bring tangible benefits to college athletes,” including mindfulness training, career development, mental health support and others. I'm sure there are some student athletes out there that would love to dip their hand in the cookie jar.....and have the financial means necessary to pay out of pocket for whatever delightful treat they pulled out, but you can't argue with what the NCAA is doing here. Mindfulness? Career development? Why give college athletes tangible currency when you can give them...(dun, dun, dun)....MORE FREE COLLEGE!!! All these football players are out there putting their health at risk for nothing more than the education they hope not to need until far later in life, but surely they must appreciate having their non-financial benefits indiscernibly enhanced! A cool 100k might seem like pennies since it's coming from an organization that's worth billions and billions of dollars, but how can you criticize the NCAA for budgeting less than 1% of their yearly revenue towards giving the hard working kids responsible for it an outlet to vent about the struggles caused by their inability to earn a percentage of it? They might be the organization causing the pain and stress, but at least they are nice enough to offer up literally anything other than true monetary relief to kinda sorta ease it! |
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