What a buddy! What a pal! What Bob McNair lacks in his ability to use socially acceptable figures of speech without tongue tying himself into comparing his employees to convicts for exercising their right to protest freely he more than makes up for in the steadfastness with which he stands up for his boys! Granted, it's no coincidence that this particular "boy" is also an elderly white billionaire that believes that his status as such allows him certain supremacies. However, with Jerry Richardson choosing to throw around ungodly sums of money before relinquishing power of his most prized possession instead of actually defending himself claims of racial intolerance and sexual misconduct, it took a truly unwavering ally to publicly carry his badge of dishonor. The Texans owner clearly isn't still feeling the burn after getting raked over the coals by the players/prisoners, the media, and - more or less - the general public, but who even needs professional reputability when you've got rich friends!?! You and I might consider multiple financial settlements and the 'For Sale' sign on the Carolina Panthers as a property to be admissions of guilt, but that's only because we wouldn't have anywhere near enough money to remain innocent if we were dealing with a similar clusterfuck of allegations. Of course the guy whose wealth allows to carry on the tradition of treating women like objects and athletes like animals has a differing opinion. I don't know why we would expect anything different? Bob McNair has made it pretty damn clear that he's a bad person, but - in defending the indefensible act of offering to shave a female employee's legs - he proved he's a good friend. Doesn't that count for anything these days?!?!
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LBS- Foul trouble has somewhat limited the effectiveness of Michigan big man Moritz Wagner so far in this year’s tournament, but the team may have figured out a fix just in time for the Sweet Sixteen.
On Wednesday, Wolverines head coach John Beilein revealed his interesting strategy to try and remedy Wagner’s fouling issues: have Wagner play defense while holding tennis balls in his hands during practice. “So he is not putting his hands on people,” said Beilein of the technique, according to Jeff Seidel of the Detroit Free Press. “He is going to [have] fouls, but they just can’t be the ones he can control.” The junior forward is easily Michigan’s most important player — he led the team in both points (14.2) and rebounds per game (7.1) this season. But Wagner’s foul problems have held him to an average of 27.5 minutes in the tourney, leading to just 8.5 points and 6.5 rebounds a game. All in all, he has picked up a total of eight personal fouls through Michigan’s first two contests. Wagner also fouled out of three separate games during the regular season. ------- +1 for unorthodox coaching tactics that preemptively address a team's most pressing concern in a way that you'd expect to see in a children's movie! As for attempts at correcting a weakness that could easily be exposed by nothing more than judgement calls from inconsistent whistle blowers, I can't see how this particularly quirky one could backfire. Trying to instill in your best player the instinctual practice of keeping his active hands clenched on the defensive end of the floor, what could possibly go wrong?! As far as I know, never has anyone misinterpreted the presence of a balled up fist during an overly emotional moment of competitiveness. Therefore, I highly doubt the keen-eyed officials of college basketball will be the first to see attempted physicality from someone so noticeably tall and white that staring directly as him causes more squints than the sun itself as more violent due to his oddly intimidating hand positioning. In fact, if the Mighty Ducks trilogy truly is as prophetic of a coaching tutorial as it seems, then I'd be willing to bet that not only will Moritz Wagner stay out of the shame section of the scoresheet by constantly putting his dukes up like he was told to in practice, but he'll also deliver a heroic, game saving spike that makes for a proud fatherly moment that wouldn't have been at all possible is he just kept his sticky fingers to himself like a normal person.
Money hungry coaches? Six figure shoe deals? A marginalized "workforce" that's not allowed to profit off their status as public figures? If you upgraded this clip to HD, took the pads out of the anchorwoman's suit jacket, got Converse up on out of that graphic, edited out the sound of velcro, found someone other than Grant Hill to fill the role of able-bodied athlete, and had it mention a federal investigation then I'd be liable to think that this was filmed while I had ate breakfast this morning. If we're being honest, it's actually quite scary how much college basketball hasn't changed since the early 90's. If you went back 5 years you'd be hard pressed to find another walk of life in which a clearly flawed and an obviously exploitive business model wasn't made at least a little more liberal in the name of common fucking sense. Yet, not only has the NCAA remained remarkable consistent in their standard operating procedure of indentured servitude for well over two decades, but they have actually doubled down on it by bringing abroad the FBI to more strictly enforce it. They would have been considered relatively regressive if all they were doing was getting lapped in leniency by every other organization in the country, but they are actually attempting to swim upstream into the raging rapids of rationality. Their stubbornness might actually be impressive if it weren't so goddamn self-serving. I'm probably closer to being able to buy a college basketball player on Amazon and having him delivered to my doorstep in 12 hours than I am to seeing the day in which that college basketball player can legally license his likeness while it sells sneakers by the shitload. We've acknowledged the existence of approximately 15 new genders and granted equal rights to absolutely everyone since this piece aired. Well, everyone but the student athletes who still don't have the right to take advantage of a capitalist society despite working double duty under an umbrella that just keeps on collecting money due to their efforts.
NBC- A former Atlanta Hawks employee is accusing the professional basketball club of discriminating against white people and firing her after she complained.
The Atlanta Journal-Constitution reports Margo Kline filed a lawsuit Friday seeking punitive damages and a trial. The lawsuit says Hawks external affairs director David Lee, who is black, promoted a culture of discrimination against white people, and especially white women. Kline, who is white, worked as a community development coordinator for five years before her March 2017 firing. The lawsuit says Lee would make jokes about “white culture,” hiring and promoting black employees – who Kline said were less qualified – over white people.... The NBA team denies Kline’s claims and says it plans to defend against them. The Hawks statement says discrimination claims are taken seriously and Kline’s were thoroughly reviewed. -------- Well, well, well...would you look at that? Four years ago the Atlanta Hawks GM had to dismiss of himself because he was unable to analyze a player of Sudanese descent without openly wondering where he was hiding the knockoff Gucci bags, and now that very same front office is intolerant of humorless white people. Some might even say that their biggest transgression is being too progressive...
In all seriousness, I think I already found grounds for dismissal of this case. How is it racist to make jokes at the expense of white culture when "white culture" is nothing more than 2-3 year old black culture? Is it ageist to make fun of the way you dressed in high school photos, because David Lee and his associates are basically being charged with taking a look back through their proverbial scrapbook and having a laugh at what's been recently appropriated. The truth of the matter is, this lawsuit is nothing more than proof positive that the defendant did the right thing by canning Margo Kline. How the hell is a "Community Developer" supposed to develop what's largely a black community when she doesn't even understand their primary interests? She was in the business of catering to black people, and it's well known that the best way to cater to black people is to take advantage of the wealth of comedic material at your disposal by making fun of white people. If she didn't pick up on the fact that self-depreciation was the smartest play during her five years doing outreach for a predominantly black office in a predominantly black league in a predominantly black city with a predominantly black fanbase then it's inevitable that her job performance at least stagnated and more than likely suffered. I bet the African American that replaced her ass has increased productivity from the position ten fold, and it's probably because he/she has taken advantage of the fact that their office - much like the NBA itself - is one of the only workplaces in America where black people don't feel it necessary to at least mildly censor their true selves. Embracing their blackness is part of the Atlanta Hawks' marketing strategy, and publicly rolling your eyes at whiteness is paramount to embracing blackness (See: Darren Rovell Vs. Hot Sauce). And look, on the off chance that she - or anyone else - was truly held back from climbing this particular corporate latter because she was either white or female then that's wrong, but the fact that she felt it necessary to combine the two is a sign that neither form of discrimination was all that debilitating to her upward mobility. Never mind the fact that a white person claiming racism will always be taken about as seriously as a male claiming rape, because if you can't drum up enough sympathy with a claim of gender inequality in the year 2018 then you don't deserve reimbursement for even the most punitively damaged sense of entitlement. Sam Darnold Delayed His Pro Day Performance Due To Rain, Or - More Accurately - Lack Thereof3/21/2018
Credit where credit is due, and - on this oh-so-rare rainy day in Southern California - there is no one due more deserving of a hat tip than Sam Darnold. I don't want to say that the draft stock of a kid who was once a lock to be a top five pick has fallen. It has, however, become a bit lost in the shuffle of Josh Allen's urban legendary arm, Lamar Jackson's stupidly suggested switch to wide receiver, Baker Mayfield's polarizing personality, and Josh Rosen's questionably questioned commitment to football. The following will probably work in his favor, but - to this point - Sam Darnold has been the least talked about of the blue chip quarterback prospects. That's why I'm impressed with his inevitably overblown decision to delay his Pro Day performance for precipitation. Not because I think it's all that difficult to keep your balance and accurately throw a football against air during a steady rain shower in a mild climate, but because most would have missed a golden opportunity to easily impress those that are desperately looking for a franchise quarterback. It might not be as illustrious as slinging a long ball 50+ yards to no one in particular from his knees, but welcoming wetness as opposed to wilting at it's touch is one of those things that gets triple-underlined in the scouting report and harped on far too many times when you've predominantly played on the West Coast. Sam Darnold just got an 'A' in handling the elements, and all he had to do was avoid falling on his face or launching the ball into the 14th row. When you're a future pro whose calling card is his accuracy, that's a risk that's worth the reward, but it's not a risk that all players of his position would have had the wherewithal to bide some time and take. If the glowing reviews are any indication, it looks like it paid off and put the USC product right back into the crowded conversation...
I want you to envision a scenario in which you walked into a dinner party only to be greeted by an unkempt apartment. You pour yourself a glass of red wine, plop down in the only remaining seat in a crowded living room, and begin to engage in introductory banter. Not too long after, you get overly involved in the telling of a story, start talking with your hands, and - due in part to you having no place to set it down in the first place - that merlot spills from the glass causing a huge blotch on an un-vacuumed carpet. You end up vehemently apologizing, because - well, what else are you going to do? But, deep down, there's a small part of you that really wants to say that all you did by being a graceless guest was make a bad, unwelcoming situation that much worse. In case you haven't figured it out by now, you are Cory Schneider in this hypothetical scenario. I'm not going to sit here and tell you that the Devils goaltender wasn't absolutely awful in quickly wearing out his welcome last night. To say the performance of a player who is being paid like a high-end starter was as easy to stomach as a half-price app would be far, far, far too kind. If goaltenders who are at the top of their game are said to have short memories then Cory Schneider should theoretically have a long memory, but that didn't stop him from starting the game by giving up a bad angle goal that was nearly identical to the one that cost the Devils any sort of momentum in what's now proving to be a huge loss to the Panthers in early March...
It only got worse from there, and by the time he ended up getting yanked - which was probably an intermission too late - he had provided his team nothing more than a scapegoat in what would have almost assuredly been a lop-sided loss regardless. That being said, the all-too-familiar circumstances in which a struggling goaltender failed to succeed were anything but helpful. Forget about the win-loss record on the road trip, because - for the fifth time in five games - the Devils were outclassed in the first period. For the second time in two games, Damon Severson and John Moore looked like they were introduced to each other during warmups and downed a bunch of shots together immediately afterwards to ease their social discomfort. Five-on-three power plays should be the gift that keeps on giving, but for the second straight game the Devils somehow tied themselves in to a hostage situation while trying to remove the bow. The defensive zone breakouts? Well, they have become about as bumpy as the 'Before' pictures in a Proactiv commercial. The offensive zone pinches? As intimidating and easy to sidestep as a grandmother's show of affection. Sure, the Devils had some moments where it looked as though an offensive flurry (that proved fruitless) might get them back in the game, but it was too little, wayyyy too late against an opponent that predictably continued to score in bunches shortly thereafter. By giving up 4 goals on 14 shots, Cory Schneider didn't give the Devils a chance to win, but - by focusing solely on those disastrous numbers - it becomes pretty easy to forget that the 18 guys in front of him didn't come anywhere close to deserving that chance with how shitty they started off yet another game that they - more or less - needed to win. Cory Schneider might be a stain on the Devils' dwindling playoff hopes but the Devils' dwindling playoffs hopes were already a relatively unattractive tapestry of recurring problems. His pathetic performance just happens to be the ultimate eyesore as of now, but it shouldn't be one that's used to let the rest of the team off the hook because simply starting Keith Kinkaid isn't cleaning up all their issues.
I'm not going to lie, a casually relatable perspective from someone whose not at all concerned with being either right or professional is one that I would have been interested in serving as the background noise during one of the most exciting regular season games of the entire NBA season...until it actually did. It's not an indictment of the concept of 'Players Only' broadcasts as much as it is an indictment of Nate Robinson's inclusion in them, but hearing him analyze the game from the viewpoint of an overly opinionated fan made me realize that watching games with overly opinionated fans is almost always an awful experience. From him openly rooting for the Trail Blazers, to him reading ads like the fat kid in Billy Madison, to him declaring a Gerald Green half court heave to be a "BUCKET" two whole seconds before it bounced harmlessly off the backboard, to attempting to backseat officiate by saying "every James Harden step-back looks like a travel", Nate Robinson reminded me of the value of in-game silence. If he were sitting next to me on my couch I would have told him to shut the hell up and sip his beer like a normal person and TNT decided he needed to metaphorically sit on everyone's couch while all-but-forcing them to chug theirs just to drowned out his nonsense. Two of the hottest teams in the league featuring some of the most awe-inspiring talent in the sport going back and forth during a game that came down to the final seconds, and I wasn't looking forward to the next possession but rather bracing myself for the next obnoxious ad-lib. Like I said, great in theory, but - if only due to the incompetence of the executor - counterproductive in execution. TMZ- Buffalo Bills wide receiver Zay Jones got into a bizarre naked struggle with his brother -- who's also in the NFL -- and it ended in a bloody mess ... with Zay in handcuffs. TMZ Sports obtained this video of the crazy fight that went down Monday night in a downtown L.A. apartment building. Zay is stark raving nude while grappling with his brother -- Cayleb Jones of the Vikings... You can hear Zay yelling, "I'm going to fight for Jesus" ... and according to witnesses, Cayleb was trying to stop him from jumping out a 30th floor window. Zay eventually broke free, and ran in the direction of Cayleb's gf's apartment ... you can hear her screaming. We're told at some point, he ran back out of the apartment, entered a public balcony area and smashed his foot through a window. Photos from the scene show blood on the shattered window, and all over the floors and walls. We're told Zay actually tried to squeeze through the hole in the window, but Cayleb restrained him until police arrived, and arrested him for felony vandalism.
------- Hmm, let's see. Naked? Bloody? Evidence of self harm that was nearly as nonsensical as the incoherent religious rant that preceded it? No past history of uncontrollably odd behavior that rendered even his brother speechless? I'm no doctor, but I think I may know the cure to what ailed Zay Jones when he went nutty-nuts on the 30th story of a Los Angeles apartment complex. His employer might not want to hear this, but I think a scene that you'd expect to see during an overly dramatized opening to an episode of CSI could have been avoided with the ingestion of some ground-grown drugs. I know, I know. I shouldn't discount the possibility of CTE given his profession, but - as a 22 year old with no diagnosed concussions on record and a previously untarnished reputation - it seems a lot more likely he was smoking on something synthetic. I don't know what the bar is for clear-headed craziness, but I'm pretty sure the well-respected Bills' wideout tried to run through a sheet of glass in order to hurdle over it from hundreds of feet in the air with his dick flapping in the wind. I don't exactly think I need an M.D. attached to the back of my name to come to the conclusion that those symptoms strongly correlate with the abuse of a substance. What that substance was? I don't know, but I would think swapping it out for a recreational drug that slightly alters your mind as opposed to completely controlling it would prove beneficial. Unfortunately, if there's one thing I know about said recreational drug it's that it's just as likely to be prescribed to you by a medical professional as it is to get you suspended from the NFL and deemed a more of an unlawful junky than the person screaming about Jesus while finger painting public places with his own blood.
Well, at least the Titans' All Pro safety got the clarification he was looking for. If the question is "how do you make this statement and not include the two First Team AP All Pro safeties?" then the answer is to judge only by name, familiarity, and past accomplishments in defending your hyperbolic statement as fact despite it showing an insane amount of ignorance towards the topic you're discussing. It may have been a rhetorical question at first, but the answer somehow became all-too-necessary. The metrics by which recently released Tyrann Mathieu is still the best safety in the game? Friendship, loyalty, and - last but not least - gasbaggery! Deion Sanders actually went so far above and beyond in proving Kevin Byard's point for him that I'd be inclined to think he did so intentionally to bring attention to Kevin Byard's outstanding season. It's just tough to believe that someone whose job is to stay up to date with the NFL could remain so self-righteous in his patently false claim....until you realize the "analyst" in question still unironically refers to himself as 'Primetime'. Then the idea that his ego led him unarmed into what quickly became the most lop-sided battle of sports knowledge that the internet has ever seen becomes a bit more understandable. Going the "I played the game" route is already a sure sign that your running low on ammo, but doing so with someone who currently plays the game at the absolute highest level is like firing your one bullet while holding the gun backwards. Deion Sanders tried to talk down to a "fan", and - in the process - actually made it seem like he could be found waiting outside Texans' training camp with a Sharpie in hand and a Tyrann Mathieu's #1 Fan hat perched atop his head. It's a good thing Deion Sanders role at NFL Network is predicated on his ability to make up for a lack of information and insight with an abundance of volume and self-important bullshit, or not even recognizing the name of one of the best defensive backs in the league he "covers" would be a fireable offense.
I don't want to hate Ryan Donato, seeing as he and loyalty-driven self-loathing were the only reasons for American hockey fans to tune into watch Team USA at the Winter Olympics, but he's not giving me much of a choice by being such a well-rounded person. Notching three points in your first professional game is impressive, but it's not something we haven't seen before. The same can't be said for waking up the next goddamn morning and going full-Allen Iverson on the contending NHL team that inserted your 21 year old ass into their lineup down the stretch of a promising season so you can hit the books in an Ivy League classroom. I mean, I can't - in good conscience - call the kid a try-hard, because clearly things come pretty fucking easy for him. However, his decision to simultaneously partake in school and professional sports adds a little insult to the injured egos of those of us that didn't even have the educational wherewithal to skip a Wednesday afternoon beer pong game on behalf of a quality attendance record, never mind a practice with the pro athletes that recently became our peers. Son of a bitch is just out here showing up the best hockey players on the planet and the sharpest young minds in higher education at the same damn time by casually pulling double duty as both, so how are people that aren't anywhere close to being either not supposed to feel some type of way about it? Like, congrats to Ryan Donato on breaking barriers and shattering expectations while managing his time wisely as a newly legal drinker, but would it kill him to save some accomplishments for the rest of us?
I have a pretty hard time believing that this didn't just get said in the haphazard and indefinite passing along of the message that new public transit plans will make it easier for a future NHL team to be part of a realistic regional rivalry. After all, the sports' crazy fans of Seattle also pay taxes, and taxes tend to get raised by the construction of things that benefit tax payers. Therefore, it only made sense to pander to them via the insanely premature ignition of proximity-based animosity in hockey. I just don't necessarily think that the previously used team name that the Governor accidentally slipped in while doing so is some sign that a decision has already been made this early in the process. Unfortunately, I have just as hard of a time believing that NHL has the societal wherewithal to do something as simple as say "no" to a team name that is somehow even crappier than it is insensitive if the Seattle Totems was indeed suggested. Let's be honest, evening up the conferences by introducing a new franchise to a city as deserving and alluring to out-of-market fans as Seattle is a decision that is far too universally accepted for a league that is in a constant state of controversy. There's almost only one way in which that decision could be screwed up and that's by signing off on the re-appropriation of Native American culture that serves as an ode to a time in which we were too stupid to see why a proud people might not want their tradition trademarked by those that are hardly familiar with it. Never mind that the Seattle Totems fails both the alliteration and the relevance test in sounding like a team that would get denied the opportunity to participate on Legends Of The Hidden Temple, because - if Kid Rock's performance at the All Star Game is any indication - there's nothing the NHL loves more than being tone deaf to the present while living in the past!
I absolutely love this and by "this" I don't mean a denial that the Saints are looking for a slot receiver more trustworthy than the curious case that is Willie Snead IV, but rather the evidence that their head coach's disdain for the epidemic that is NFL insider-dom is everlasting. I don't know where Nicki Jhabvala got her information from, but - if, and only if - Sean Payton didn't just put her credibility six feet under then the first step in the recovery of her online presence should be tightening her circle of trust. I mean, goodness gracious, that attempt at halfheartedly sticking to her unloaded guns in the face of someone armed with the truth just had to be hard to watch. Well, for everyone other than Saints fans that have bi-anually gotten beaten over the head by the rumor mill so incessantly that they take pleasure in watching the coach whose name has been run through it countless times take the rare opportunity to through a kink in its cycle, that is. For the Who Dat Nation, that proverbial choke slamming of the not-so-curiously anonymous "sources" was years in the making. It may have just been in reference to what wouldn't have been all that big of a news break, but - by basically breaking that "news" over his knee - Sean Payton reminded those that are far too eager to shoot their shot that he's got the ability to block it with the foremost authority. If that interaction wasn't a deterrent for other self-assured media types then at least it was proof that the person with unlimited animosity towards them still goes hard in the paint.
As much I think that NFL GM's, as a collective, view Baker Mayfield through a "less is more" prism, I don't want to judge this documentary before I actually see it. It very well could be an insightful look into the journey of a misunderstood kid with something to prove that only stands to increase his standing throughout a league in which he hopes to make his presence immediately felt. That being said, if that's all this really is then the most controversial thing it should feature him doing is him slicing his avocado toast diagonally. If he's trying to set himself apart then he should probably only do so by swapping out lettuce for spinach in his dressing-less, pre-workout salad. Like, best case scenario, this documentary puts Baker Mayfield's biggest fans right to sleep. If he wants to get out ahead of the pre-draft hole poking then the only things we should see Behind Baker is a tape measure that reads 6'3. In order for the production of this video to do right by him in the NFL's eyes, it would have to be half Rocky-montage, half him sitting in a dark room watching game film with a bible in one hand and a 300-page playbook in the other. For it to not get instantaneously labeled a distraction by a league that considers every single thing that doesn't earn them money to be a distraction then it better paint the cocky Heisman Trophy winner like a complete loser. The way the league categorizes personalities at the quarterback position is basically 'paint drying' (Russell Wilson) or 'problem child' (Johnny Manziel), so let's hope there's no 'CAUTION: WET APPETITE' signs necessary after the release of a doc-u-series that is just as likely to hurt his draft stock as it is to help it. If, after losing a game in which they thoroughly dominated the Winnipeg Jets to absolutely no avail, you had told me that the Devils were on the verge of going 3-1 during the start of a hellish, season-defining road trip that included playing two of the best teams in league in the two most difficult buildings in which to get a win then I'm not sure I would have been able to withhold side-splitting laughter. Hell, not only would I have taken this start to their pre-postseason if it were offered to me on March 9th, but I would have placed it atop it's own shrine and tried to bow it into existence on an hourly basis. Simply put, as much belief as I had in the Devils to put forth max effort in their bipolar quest to put an end to a 5 year playoff drought, I had just as much disbelief that it would be enough to end the 10-game win streak of a juggernaut, overtake the overwhelming house odds in Vegas, or rebound against a tough, heavy team who was just as desperate for points. The Devils got quacked back to reality by the Ducks, but that seemed like a more of an inevitable letdown than a huge disappointment after surviving in Nashville, catching a heater in Sin City, and silencing LA in a way that gave true Kings fans flashbacks when half their season ticket holders thought 'Kopitar' was the name of the newest magical weight loss pill. It may not be reflected in the obnoxiously unforgiving standings, but what the Devils have done in the last week and half is more than could have possibly been expected of them prior to embarking on thee most daunting stretch of schedule. Now, that being said, there's still a hell of a lot they need to improve on if they still want to be sitting pretty as they come out of it. First and foremost, the slow starts need to speed the hell up, because a lot of fortuitous bounces have kept them from biting the Devils in the ass. There's something to be said about weathering the initial storm while on the road, but damn near drowning under a monsoon of shots seems like a dangerous game to play when you're a team who statistically (5 wins when trailing after the first) has issues swimming upstream. Even in winning efforts, a couple of the first periods as of late have been hard to watch, and that includes those that have ended with them in the lead. The defensive breakdowns are inevitable when the quality of competition is high, but I don't think it's too much to ask that they be limited to forced errors. Some of the failed clears have been the result of nothing more than a lack of focus, and the same can be said about opponents left unchecked in front of the net. I don't want to single any one play or player out, but if I were to do so I'd probably choose one of the 15-20 times that Damon Severson and John Moore looked as though they rested up for Anaheim by partaking in Southern California's finest of homegrown herbal remedies. They haven't been the only mistake prone defenseman but they have been the most disaster prone, and that doesn't bode well for a team whose recovery time consistently falls a bit short. While it would be insanely easy (damn near necessary) to argue that it made very little sense (debatably zero) not to give a start to Cory Schneider on the ass end of a road back-to-back when his services will - like it or not - eventually be needed, the goaltending hasn't been a problem as much as it has been a reflection of what's in front of it. There have been stretches where Kinkaid has stood on his head, but what you should probably expect out of him is what you saw in the last two games. The Devils made the Kings look harmless for the final 40 minutes and Keith Kinkaid posted a shutout. They made the Ducks look like world beaters, and they rocked Keith Kinkaid's world. Considering Cory's struggles (that have been wildly overblown, mind you), a repeat of the former would go a long ways into getting him back on track if is in between the pipes tonight. As for the offense, it truly is crazy how quickly things change. It feels like no more than one extensive morning seat on the toilet ago that Taylor Hall was futilely dragging his team to the finish line. Now, in the most unfair sense of the word, it's "fair" to argue they could stand to see more out of him. That's not a knock on his play as much as it is an acknowledgement of how stellar it was prior, but - as the old saying goes - you need your best players to be your best players come playoff time, and if this isn't being treated as playoff time then their playoff time is ticking. The rise in secondary scoring has been awesome. From Blake Coleman and Michael Grabner beating the monkeys off their backs, to Pat Maroon being a seamless fit in a once unfilled role, to Brian Gibbons reminding everyone that he's the rare case in which his presence makes the heart grow fonder, to Nico's flashes of brilliance. They've ironically showed a bit of depth as injuries continue to test it. That said, there's a reason Taylor Hall is a legitimate Hart Trophy candidate, and it's not because this team is at it's best when he looks like one of the guys as opposed to thee guy. With only ten games left, it goes without saying that every single one of them is vital to their playoff hopes. The next three certainly don't get any easier, but it's not so much that the Devils need to worry about playing harder as it that they need to concern themselves with playing smarter. Luck was on their side throughout their three game win streak, but they're going to need more than luck if they want to stop that all-too-familiar transition into what would be a fateful losing streak.
I'm not going to act like I feel any sort of way about Tomas Plekanec's kinship towards the players which he shared a locker room that he called home for well over a decade. In fact, if I were to act in the interest of full disclosure, I might offer this anecdotal insight into just how many fucks I give about any and all things Montreal Canadiens...
That said, I would be lying if I said it wasn't cool to see former teammates bust each other's balls in a way that reminds us that relationships in sports easily surpass sweater color. It's too often that we expect professional teams to get along in a way that is fitting of old friends who begrudgingly interrupt the streak of inside jokes to slam Jameson shots, only to assume that same closeness will automatically exist elsewhere when the business side of sports breaks that bond. Becoming a professional athlete means following an inherently unpredictable career path, but it's still largely bullshit that we completely discount what makes them people when they fall victim to the fickleness of being a player. Considering he's in the midst of an 8-game scoreless drought as a Maple Leaf, Tomas Plekanec probably appreciated the hell out of having his unorthodox look mocked by people doing it to his face out of love rather than having his lackluster production mocked behind his back out of spite. No one should feel bad for a guy who got traded from the pit of misery to playoff contention, but anyone that has developed alliances that exist well outside the locker room should at least relate with how brightly he smiled when he saw a familiar face popping out of the reptilian-top of an all-too-familiar undergarment. An Official Tossed Dwane Casey After He Misheard A Disagreeable Fan As The Raptors Head Coach3/19/2018
As much as I want to crush this presumptuous officiating crew for pinning the criticisms from every outspoken fan in Toronto on their innocent head coach, I can't say it's not a phenomenon that I've encountered in my day. My parents always used to tell that I was solely responsible for the actions of every one of my guests. Now granted, as regrettable as some of the company I kept was, their ability to create chaos was far more controllable than tens of thousands of people with varying levels of intoxication, but - even if it wasn't - you can bet your ass I was getting blamed for every single thing that went wrong. Of course, I just assumed that was their way of easing the burden of parenting by avoiding confrontational conversations with the neighbors, but - with 8 seconds left in an out of reach game - I can see why the referee also took the easy way out in restoring order. Sometimes when playing the disciplinarian you just have to slap the only wrist within your jurisdiction, even if ends up making you look like an audacious official who can't be trusted to keep his focus during temperamental times. If the intent is to make the work load of a student athlete seem harder to undertake then I can't imagine too many scenarios where I wouldn't be on board. It's far too often that college kids who are enrolled in a full slate of courses while participating in sports that are a paycheck away from being considered semi-professional don't get nearly enough credit for their management of priorities. Therefore, I'm typically all for any story that works against the notion that being involved in athletics makes school easier. Unfortunately, the story of the student athlete who did this...
...and was welcomed back to the locker room like this...
...while this awaited him back on campus...
....put a halt to the celebration of his unlikely heroics just so he could do this is unfortunately beyond my ability to suspend disbelief...
Never mind Greek Mythology, because the idea that a newly minted campus legend put aside an unquantifiable amount of praise from his peers to type up some intricate ode to Odysseus might as well be American Mythology. Unless Jordan Poole is looking forward to a future in foreign false narratives, Greek Mythology is one of the classes you take so you can feel comfortable relaxing on your responsibilities. That's not even to say that he didn't write said paper, but it is to say that it didn't need to be any longer than "Zeus was a Greek god whose bolt was capable of everything...other than nailing a buzzer-beating three pointer to send his school to the Sweet 16" to net him an 'A' for the most minuscule amount of effort. I'm sure the transition from campus king to procrastinating undergrad was a rough one, but let's not act like Jordan Poole had to bang out a a dissertation on the downfalls of humanity mid-tournament.
Cavaliers- "After many conversations with our doctors and Koby and much thought given to what is best for the team and my health, I need to step back from coaching for the time being and focus on trying to establish a stronger and healthier foundation from which to coach for the rest of the season.
I have had chest pains and other troubling symptoms, compounded by a loss of sleep, throughout the year. Despite a battery of tests, there have been no conclusions as to what the exact issue is. While I have tried to work through it, the last thing I want is for it to affect the team. I am going to use this time to focus on a prescribed routine and medication, which has previously been difficult to start in the midst of a season. My goal is to come out of it a stronger and healthier version of myself so I can continue to lead this team to the Championship we are all working towards. I greatly appreciate Dan Gilbert, Koby Altman, our medical team and the organization's support throughout." - Tyronn Lue --------- All "LeBron is literally a coach killer" jokes aside, I think the NBA - as a whole - needs to hear the following. They might want to take both a seat and a deep breath because this might come as a shock to the entire association, but...it's just fucking basketball. I know, I know. It seems like so much more in the moment, but - despite what the overwhelmingly amount of media-driven scrutiny might lead you to believe - it really is just a game. Mental health is obviously a serious issue, but the fact that it looks as though it's running rampant through a particular sports league is more than a wee bit concerning. First it was DeMar DeRozan with depression, then Kevin Love with a full-blown anxiety attack, then Kelly Oubre's internal struggle, and now the head coach of a team who has been to three straight NBA Finals is suffering from the type of insomnia that leaves bags burning under his eyes as the morning light shines through? I mean, if there's anyone who would have reason to succumb to stress then it's the guy who was supervising a season of The Real Housewives before his entire roster got turned upside down and he was tasked with turning a group of castoffs into a formidable team in two months time. Like, perhaps this is the reason more organizations don't put an unforeseen amount of pressure on their coach by going full-NBA2K at the trade deadline. Still, I can't help but think we should install a reality checkpoint before these guys get to the breaking point where the pro sport they are involved is less hazardous to their health than the strain it puts on their psyche. I can totally understand why interactions like this might have a coach up all night pondering what the hell he did to deserve being made to look like a child that broke something while playing ball in the house by someone they are technically in charge of...
...but christ. If this isn't just the "nice way" of the Cavaliers bending over backwards to keep the the most needy superstar in the history of sports happy when he's on the verge of free agency (and it could absolutely be nothing more than that) then it's a sign that basketball is being taken far too seriously. That's apparently not the greatest of news for anyone associated with a player who is just nearly as destructive as he is dominant. Lives are more important than the sport they are involved in, but LeBron James - at least in part - is ruining the former by way of the latter.
But, don't you have to make it to the Sweet Sixteen to have even the slightest chance at a National Championship? And, doesn't using a Sweet Sixteen appearance as a recruiting tool hypothetically make it easier to draw the players necessary to get to a National Championship? I don't know. I just thought that maybe, just maybe, a bunch of relative accomplishments (cough,cough::Sweet Sixteens::cough,cough) stacked on top of one another would strengthen that thing they call a resume that is used to by National Championship-hungry programs when sifting through candidates for their head coaching position. You know what? Never mind. Mick Cronin pulling the cancer card out of the thinnest of air was a bit of a dirty trick, but - even more so - it was a sign of a man who was desperate for answers after his second seeded team made a 22 point lead disappear in well under one half of play. It may have sounded like he was throwing shit at he wall in hopes of getting something to stick. I, on other hand, think he was throwing his heart at the mercy of the court of public opinion, and - as a member of the jury - I am deeming it innocent enough. There's probably a better place for the "this 68-team college basketball tournament is completely meaningless unless you win it" mindset than the stage of said tournament that's used to showcase the sport you've devoted your life to, but - contrary to the "survive and advance" mantra - he is right is saying it's not exactly a life and death situation. That's probably why most tend to steer clear of comparing it to one, but - considering the electrocardiogram of the contest in question - I'm not sure he had any other available analogies at his disposal...
ASAPSports- Q. Do you guys feel like you really were able -- Texas Tech is a 3 seed. You were really able to play with them and maybe were under seeded?
KYLE KELLER: I don't know. There's 68 teams in the tournament seeding that to me doesn't have anything to do with it. I coached the No. 1 seed in the tournament. We didn't make the Final Four. So to me seeds don't matter. When the game starts, the game starts. And that's what we try to convince our kids. Our kids didn't -- they got to play against some dudes they knew. Ty knew some guys on their team. And the millenials today, they don't even watch college basketball. A lot of our guys didn't even know who those cats were because they don't watch the game. They're on their phone and doing that kind of stuff. I hate to say it, but as much as you or I or anybody in here watches the games, they don't. Or the NBA. They might watch the slam-dunk contest in February on TNT or whatever, but that's about the extent of it. ------- Can you believe it? The goddamn millennials are back to their shamelessly destructive behavior, this time ruining a sport that is 100% dependent on their participation. Too busy looking at their stupid phones while balancing both their education and their athletic schedule for zero dollars/hour to think about how damaging the complete randomness of rare opponents is to March Madness. Honestly, it's about time someone shed some light on these lazy kids who don't even consider sacrificing the entirety of their social lives to catch up on the tendencies of all 100+ teams they might potentially face in a tournament that prides itself on unpredictability. Kyle Keller might not be up-to-date on topical slang terms, considering he unironically referred to his opposition as "cats", but I'll be damned if he doesn't have a completely objective grasp of generational flaws. Admittedly, I didn't foresee a day when "they don't watch enough TV" became a viable criticism of college kids, but it definitely fits the millennial profile to look towards a higher-up (like a coach) for a helpful handout (like a unique game plan). Can kids these days even say they truly care about winning when they'd rather InstaSnap during dunk contests than scout the entire national landscape of college hoops on the off-chance they get pitted against an unfamiliar program that's built to expose their weaknesses? I know it seems weird to take a big ol' dump on the priorities of their entire demographic immediately after your team almost pulled a huge upset, but millennials from a 14th seeded Mid-Major would want a pity pat on the back after losing a late lead to a superior team. If only Stephen F. Austin were slightly less addicted to technology than literally everyone else in their age range and put down their tweet machines to preemptively pick up Texas Tech's defensive positioning. We would probably be sitting here talking about their title hopes instead of how the most flawless coaching performance in the history of college basketball got sabotaged by a widespread social media obsession. |
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