Russell Westbrook Had The Perfect Answer For A Question About His Stats Following A Game 2 Loss4/20/2017
How would you grade your line? Really? Can we all agree that was a stupid fucking question? I know we can all agree that Russell Westbrook was - at least in part - motivated by his pursuit of the triple-double record/MVP award throughout the regular season. I know we can all agree that - despite this double digit assist average - his play alienates his teammates from time to time. I know we can all agree that there is level of selfishness to his game and a level of superficiality to his mindset. Hell, we can even agree that - even while putting up a stat line of 51-13-10 - Russell Westbrook's record 14(!) missed shots in the 4th quarter alone were one of the main reasons his team is now in an 0-2 hole. So let's also agree that a question about his own numbers following playoff loss is a stupid one. That's not even to say that it shouldn't have been asked. The fact that Westbrook had the highest scoring triple-double in NBA postseason history in a losing effort was the elephant in the room, and the media makes their living exploiting those elephants worse than Barnum & Bailey used to. Still, the mere implication that someone as competitive as Russell Westbrook is interested in anything other than winning games come playoff time is asinine. He may not go about it in the most efficient way, but - in his mind - he thought he was giving his team the best chance to even the series. He may be right considering the consistency with which the players around him having been laying bricks, but whether he was wrong or not is irrelevant. That grade was asked of someone that has gone balls-to-the-wall from the second the season kicked off, and the fact that it hinted that he might sleep better by finishing at the head of an inferior class makes it wholly deserving of its IDGAF answer.
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And this is why I am out on organized religion. Just when you think a story about a former NFL star committing suicide just days after clearing his murder resume of two kills couldn't get any weirder, all the sudden we find out a Bible verse was present and 'The Exorcist' theme song starts playing out of nowhere like we are all in the middle of a horror movie. I don't know if it's all the unnecessary th's or just the general idea that there's some unseen man in the sky that's going to be welcoming of a murderous cocksucker with open arms, but the thought of a guy hanging from his cell bars by a bed sheet somehow just got way creeper. Thanks a lot Jesus. I thought this book was supposed to make me feel "Good". Never trusting your reviews again. I mean, the fact that there is no amount of marijuana - synthetic or otherwise - that can make a man capable of writing on their own face in Old English in any legible fashion also offers up some questions. The main one being "hey, who got fucked up with Aaron Hernandez and helped him pledge his loyalty to his maker just minutes before he potentially met him?". I was as sober as a middle schooler can possibly be and I could barely write backwards messages to cars in the rearview when I rode the bus as a child. If there's anything that the trial of Aaron Hernandez taught me about him it's that he's not the most detailed of person while stoned. Who knows what the fuck happened in that cell, but tossing the vague spirituality of some sacred, holier than thou writing and a potential accomplice into the mix instantly makes this investigation more....::insert plot twist sound effect here::...interesting. Let's take a gander at the following plays and try to take note of what they have in common....
- Dangerous - Non-hockey plays - Made out of frustration - Away from the puck - Meant to cause harm - Didn't cause injury Look, I have no horse in this race. The only thing a Devils' player could do throughout the next few months that would require league review is commit a felony, and that damn sure wouldn't be happening anywhere close to NHL ice. As an objective fan I tend to err on the side of letting the players get away with a little more than usually during the playoffs, but - first and foremost - I think consistency is the most important aspect of enforcing discipline. That's why all of these guys should have been suspended or none of these guys should have been suspended. These clips don't need to be broken down frame by frame. The intent of each person responsible doesn't need to measured in megapixels. These were idiotic decisions that may not have been made to cause serious harm to those on the ass end of them, but they certainly weren't made in hopes of helping their teams win hockey games. What Matt Calvert did may have looked a little worse because it resulted in a broken stick and the victim showing off his acting chops, but his crosscheck to the back of Jake Guentzel wasn't any more or any less stupid and dangerous than every other incident above. If the NHL really wants to keep up this charade that they give a fuck about "player safety" then the only way to get through to them is by temporarily taking away their ability to play when they compromise it. If not, they should just do what they've been doing for the vast majority of their existence and blissfully ignore everything that doesn't cause immediate CTE. Honestly, I think either would be exponentially better than the haphazard, "pin the tail on the suspension" bullshit they are doing now. We'll see what happens with Leon Draisaitl and I highly doubt Steve Ott's horse kick is even under review, but the fact that Matt Calvert and Ryan Hartman received different rulings is nothing short of moronic. One was obviously more subtle, but they had just about everything else in common. The fact that the DoPS can't see that is what concerns more so than the regularity with which these questionable situations need to be addressed. “Initially, when they’re chipping pucks in, we have to do a better job of being patient. There are times when they are beating us to the puck, so we just have to let the one-on-ones happen. We’re kinda getting a little too, uh, horny, getting in there and exposing it. They are able to keep those pucks alive, and once we’re losing one, two guys into battles, that’s when they have that time and space to make plays happen. If we just come back to the net front, stop, let the one-on-one happen, we’re going to be fine.” - Kevin Shattenkirk ----- Is it just me, or does referring to this as a simple "slip of the tongue" seem disingenuous? Not only would that be a super suggestive way to talk about some unintentional innuendo, but - if the long pause prior was any indication - then the word Kevin Shattenkirk spent a couple seconds looking for and the word he eventually found may have been one and the same. I suppose "horny" isn't commonly used as hockey jargon, but I honestly think it's pretty spot-on in describing what's ailing his team. We can - and should - laugh, because...well...sex stuff...HA! Still, the Capitals have been patiently waiting all season to blow their load when it mattered. It makes total sense that they would be overanxious when the opportunity came. As far as I am concerned, Ovechkin and the boys have basically been carrying a loaded gun with a trigger as quick as a 40 year old virgin's since this series started. This postseason is their moment. It's the one that's alluded them for years. It's the one that they went above and beyond to prepare for. When Washington traded for Kevin Shattenkirk they basically snatched up a Viagra in hopes of partaking in a marathon-esque run that ended in ecstasy. However, they navigated the third period of Game 3 like a group of guys that became so overwhelmed by the moment that they couldn't act natural when their proverbial postseason boners popped up in public. High-strung. Impatient. Nervous. Jittery. Restless. Shatty could have chosen any of those terms and they would have applied to the Capitals' late game performance in varying degrees, but the one thing they all have in common is that they are characteristic of someone who is just too fucking horny. Far better men have fallen victim to making bad, snap decisions when gripping their sticks too tightly. If the Capitals want to finally shed the label of being choke artists then they'll have to start playing as if they just choked the chicken. They need to act like they've been there before instead of prematurely exposing (Kevin's word, not mine) themselves like they have been waiting for this moment for their entire lives. In essence, they have to stop putting the playoffs on a pedestal...
Point guard? POINT GUARD!?! It's almost like Carmelo Anthony is trolling himself. It's as if he enjoys being made fun of so much that he's doing everything possible to provide us with retroactive, can't-miss punchlines. I don't know why this FEC disclosure is seeing the light of day nearly five years after the fact, but - with him choosing to identify at a position he is laughably unfit to play - it feels like it's on purpose. We are talking about the basketball player who made an already dysfunctional franchise trade away their entire future instead of waiting a couple months and signing with them in free agency. The professional athlete who couldn't manage to cheat on his wife like damn near every other professional athlete without raw dogging a "dancer" and putting a baby in her belly. The oversized 3/undersized 4 that's never met a possession he couldn't dribble out apparently once fancied himself a ball distributor despite averaging under three assists per game. With the way his career has played out he could have put "circus clown" under occupation and it would have been nearly as accurate as "point guard". Honestly, it's not the things that he does that are troubling, but his bird-brained execution of them that have all-but-executed his reputation/trade value. On the surface it's funny that Carmelo Anthony randomly filled out "point guard" on some 2012 electoral application, but it's troubling that - just like literally everything else he tries to do - it resulted in the general public getting a hearty laugh at his expense.
I know this may surprise some people, but the use of the middle finger does not offend me. Honestly, if church was a place that I frequented then you could walk right up to me in my pew and flip me off during the "stand and greet" period that I used to loathe so much as child, and I would probably respond with nothing more than a chuckle. I'm not saying professional athletes should be flashing derogatory sign language toward the crowd while competing on national television, but I certainly can't get riled up about it and I question what type dead animal is in the rectum of anyone that can. Even those that want to go the "what about the kids?!" route don't have much of a leg to stand on, because if you can't teach/lie to your children then you're a worse parent than Marcus Smart is a role model. That being said, I'm not sure the bird flinger in question has the greatest sense of timing here. Standing in the center of the floor after missing yet another open jump shot en route to yet another futile effort to protect your home court as the #1 seed is probably not the moment you'd want to choose to draw negative attention to yourself. It's not so much the appropriateness of the response to the heckler that I see as an issue, but the mood of those in attendance at the time. The fact that Boston fans don't take kindly to underperformance is likely what spurned this whole interaction in the first place, so I'm going to go out on a limb and say that implying that one of them should go fuck himself isn't going to ease too many tensions. After all, the C's are halfway to getting bounced by a team that was so hopeless that they were willing to trade them the star player that is now leading the charge in beating their ass. To put it far too lightly, 'Celtic Pride' is currently running on 'E' so it's probably Smart-er to refrain from given the old "fuck you" to the people that will be pushing the bandwagon if it completely breaks down.
So what these reports are basically saying is that Malcolm Butler chose to sign with New England only to turn down an invite to their workouts? Huh, well that's strange. Why would he contractually obligate himself to play professional football for less than he's worth, but not want to show up and train with the team he just rejoined? It's almost seems like...he's unhappy with the (for lack of a better term) restrictions of his current situation or something. But if that were the case then why would he voluntarily prolong it another season? I'm not exactly an NFL General Manager, but - with his standoffish approach to their offseason and a long term deal due at the end of the year - I can't help but think that it might behoove the Patriots to move him to a team that would be willing to reimburse him properly. Man, if only there were a organization that has been in contact with Bill Belichick throughout the last few months and has a desirable asset to offer despite being unwilling to part with their own first round pick by signing him to an offer sheet. It really sucks there's no franchise that is in desperate need of a starting cornerback and able to pay the apparent market value (set by the Brandin Cooks trade) for a high-end player who is due a massive payday sooner rather than later. If there were then I would think that some handshakes would have commenced a meeting discussing an inevitable, mutually beneficial deal long before yesterday. Oh well. Too bad the persistent rumors are just rumors. It's a real shame that the Saints definitely don't have any real need for secondary help, or Malcolm Butler could have stopped in and done some negotiating when he flew South solely to check out Bourbon Street and eat some beignets. Some Obnoxiously Loud Fornicators Were The Background Noise For A Tennis Match At The Sarasota Open4/19/2017 NYDailyNews- A Sarasota Open match between Frances Tiafoe and Mitchell Krueger was interrupted multiple times on Tuesday night due to a couple in a nearby house having very loud sex.
To their credit, Tiafor and Krueger did not seem fazed by the extra-curricular activities the neighbors were partaking in. Krueger joking hit a tennis ball in the direction of the sex noises at one point and when the volume hit an embarrassingly high level, Tiafor, 19, yelled: “It can’t be that good!” ------- Poor guys. Seriously, you have to feel bad for Frances Tiafoe and Mitchell Krueger here. I haven't the slightest idea how good they actually are at tennis, but I do know it must be mighty hard to work your way up the ranks so that you're no longer competing in venues that potentially share public beaches with porn shoots. They are professionals who should be able to perform under non-optimal conditions, but it still can't be easy to showcase the entirety of your talent while listening to some vocally gifted broad attempt to ease the insecurities of her boyfriend. There's a reason that the most prestigious of tennis tournaments will drag you into the bowels of the stadium and break your fingers like you were running just a litttttle too hot on the blackjack table if you so much as cough from the back row during a Serena serve. That's probably because it's an unnecessarily high brow sport, but I would imagine it also has something to do with it being very hard to concentrate when the all-too-respectful silence is broken. I can't even begin to comprehend the level of difficulty when it's broken by some couple that sounds like they are fucking in the sixth row. Hell, it may have been respectful if they were fucking in the 6th row. At least then they would get tagged with a sweet label like "exhibitionists" instead of just being the type of obnoxious assholes that take their moaning and groaning to a completely unnatural decibel level just to prove to as many people as possible how much sex they have. Speaking as someone who had a college roommate whose girlfriend thought the final game of beer pong was the best time to test the acoustics of his bedroom, it sucks to be reminded of how insignificant your match is by people that would rather shamelessly hump alongside it than watch it. I Didn't See It Coming, But Aaron Hernandez' Suicide Probably Should Have Been Predictable4/19/2017
It's a storybook ending! I mean, it's probably the type of storybook you'd keep locked in your nightstand away from your children, but doesn't everyone just want to end their career with a huge, wildly unexpected win? Aaron Hernandez' career was in killing people, and getting acquitted of a double murder that he absolutely, no-doubt-about-it committed was his "riding off into the sunset" moment. He didn't want to retire from life, but he did so because it wasn't going to get any better from here on out. Not since the swan songs of Ray Bourque and John Elway have we seen someone so skilled in their field leave it forever after reaching the pinnacle of their profession. Let's face it, winning a championship with the Patriots wouldn't have been the culmination of Aaron Hernandez' life's work. As the least inconspicuous cold-blooded murderer ever, getting a jury of his peers to exonerate him was. Aaron Hernandez defied all logic and his own inability to be unassuming by getting cleared of homicidal charges in a way that makes Peyton Manning winning a Super Bowl with a noodle arm appear ho-hum. Simply put, Aaron Hernandez went out on top...and by that I don't mean he was elevated from the floor when he took his last breathe. In all seriousness - while suicide is far too complicated to just be considered "the coward's way out" - Aaron Hernandez is a huge coward for committing suicide. He lasted five whole days without having another trial to look forward to before he ended it all? Couldn't even suffer the consequences of his criminal actions or accept his inevitable fate for a full work week before opting out on life? I feel horrible for his daughter, but - let's be honest - she's better off without the lessons taught to her from behind the glass by a psychopath that's exhausted literally every excuse in an effort to free himself of responsibility. Assuming there was no foul play here (and that's probably a pretty sizable assumption), going to court was basically Aaron Hernandez' version of a complete bender of a weekend. When he no longer had that to look forward to, the harsh reality of his meaningless, monotonous life set in and he couldn't handle it. He's legitimately better off dead, because he certainly wasn't prepared to be an adult. That being said, I do appreciate his devotion to officially being declared an innocent man. He may have lost to a bed sheet, but he technically beat the judicial system. The phrase "I would go to my grave for (such-and-such)" gets tossed around a lot, but - Jesus Christ - Aaron Hernandez literally died to rid himself of his sins...
Outside of Oilers' fans who probably think their team's upcoming performance in Game 4 is super reliant upon running a bunch of educational drills during a casual morning skate on a playoff game day, I'm not sure how you could possibly hate this move. Gamesmanship should not only be accepted during a time of year in which winning is by any means necessary, it should be welcomed with open arms. No one should give a shit that the Sharks tried to gain an ever-so-slight advantage by disingenuous means. In fact, I think they should have taken their pettiness to another level by calling in a bomb threat to their own building or locking the doors to their rink from the outside a la 'Coach Carter'. San Jose doesn't owe a damn thing to the team that accidentally got where they are by drawing the world's luckiest ping pong ball, and that includes common courtesy. As far as I am concerned, being gifted Connor McDavid should cost your team the luxury of all basic amenities - including something to shoot at during practice. It's probably not considered a "favor" to provide another professional hockey team as much hospitality as a Motel 6. However, with how spoiled the Edmonton Oilers have been lately maybe they need a reminder of their dark days as a franchise. You know, when there was no amount of electricity could help their handful of first overall picks (not you, Taylor) find the back of a net that was staring them in the face. After Game 1:
After Game 2:
And people thought this was the guy that already had one foot on a private plane to Los Angeles?!? HA! Does that sound like someone that is unhappy with their current employment situation? Some might say it's counterproductive to throw a different teammate under the bus after every single tightly contested playoff loss, but how can you build your locker room back up without tearing it to the ground and scorching the Earth underneath it first? PG-13 isn't publicly souring every organizational relationship on his long overdue way out the door. He's simply making sure all off those relationships are rooted in honesty - no matter how brutal - by telling it to the most trustworthy of sources...the media. I don't know what all these haters are talking about, but I can't think of anything more characteristic of a true leader than loudly proclaiming that he needs the ball regardless of the circumstances. Do they even realize how much heat Paul George takes off his underperforming teammates every time he talks about his interests are more important than the entire franchise's? That's just the type of selfless behavior that almost makes you forget that he's literally 0-for-the century on shots taken with less than 20 seconds to go in an NBA game. Poor bastard is never going to get his due as a captain if his stagehands greedily continue to deny him the opportunity to up his crunch time shooting percentage to 6%. For shame, Indiana. How dare you run the most talented player on your roster out of town solely by sitting him in front of a microphone and letting him imply that he wants no part of being there on a game-by-game basis!
I think we can all agree that this was a cringeworthy title, but does Adidas at least get points for accuracy? I know it's probably not a good idea to imply that survival was in question during the one annual event in which innocent people tragically passed away, but - despite being completely inappropriate given the circumstances - the multinational brand wasn't technically wrong. I suppose they could have done a better job than crafting a congratulatory cliche off an unoriginal novelty tee shirt in a way that didn't remind people of a terrorist attack immediately following their huge personal milestone. However, if there's a form of communication that is constantly plagued by poor wording then it's e-mails. Some will say this is a stupid, inexcusable mistake to make, but Louis C.K.'s recent standup special included a bit about needing an entire team of people to help him write his e-mails and he's a comedic genius. I genuinely think someone could finish a flawless thesis paper, and somehow spell their name wrong in the signature when sending it in. It's a weird phenomenon, but it's one that exists nonetheless. In all seriousness, isn't it pretty easy to find out if this semantic disaster was on purpose for publicity? There are dozens of marathons throughout the continental United States, and I highly doubt Adidas only sponsors one of them. If this dumb ass header was only sent out to those that completed the Boston marathon then it was 100% intentional. If it was just something that went unchanged from a previous time that Adidas shamelessly tried to get people from another city to buy new shoes after wearing out their old ones by running 26.2 miles then it was an unintentional non-act of laziness. Seems pretty cut-and-dry to me. Someone needs to contact a person that travels to run for fun and see if their "you did it!" messages from Adidas match up. ThePlayersTribune (Kobe Bryant)- I obsessively read every article and book I could find about AI. I obsessively watched every game he had played, going back to the IUPU All-American Game. I obsessively studied his every success, and his every struggle. I obsessively searched for any weakness I could find.
I searched the world for musings to add to my AI Musecage. This led me to study how great white sharks hunt seals off the coast of South Africa. The patience. The timing. The angles. On Feb 20, 2000, in Philadelphia, PJ gave me the assignment of guarding AI at the start of the second half. No one knew how much this challenge meant to me. I wanted him to feel the frustration I felt. I wanted everyone who laughed at the 41 and 10 he put on me to choke on their laughter. ------ I'll be honest, I tend to lend Kobe Bryant more slack than most. I find the practice of someone giving themselves their own nickname to be insufferable, but somehow 'The Black Mamba' slithered through unscathed because it was the perfect representation of a cold blooded killer on the court. The change from #8 to one higher than Jordan was - objectively speaking - a petty, ridiculous move in hindsight, but in the moment I appreciated the spirit of it. I didn't even make fun of the concept of a "MuseCage", because - shockingly - I'm not familiar with the weird shit that someone uses to fuel a psychotic commitment to greatness in their field. I have always admired Kobe's drive to be the best so I have let him get away with some saying and doing some things that would be flat out laughable if they were said or done by literally anyone else. I say that to say this. If Kobe thinks I am going to believe that he stayed up late watching 'Animal Planet' when he was 22 years old in hopes that witnessing the most vicious predator in the sea attack helpless seals would provide him some insight on how to play on-ball defense against a shifty 6'0 point guard then he's out of his fucking mind. We all have our breaking points when it comes to giving someone the benefit of the doubt, and this is where I draw the line with Mr. Bean Bryant. The ludicrous imagery of a young, cocky NBA superstar sitting in the public library reading up on the feeding habits of sharks as if they were somehow relatable to contesting a jump shot or anticipating a crossover is too much for me accept as reality. I'm sure Allen Iverson doesn't appreciate being viewed as a fucking seal, and I certainly don't appreciate being viewed as a naive consumer by a former basketball player who is retroactively insisting that he was playing AquaMan-to-man defense in the 2001 NBA Finals. I have no doubts that Kobe Bryant kept an insane regimen of physical and mental preparation, but I'm calling bullshit on it including him minoring in Marine Biology.
That's it. That's what makes the seemingly meteoric rise of the Toronto Maple Leafs so enjoyable. It's not just that they have a bunch of young, ridiculously talented players that are too damn inexperienced to even understand the levity of the situation and the playoff pressures that the back-to-back President's Trophy winners are all too familiar with, although that certainly helps. It's that they have a bunch of old, faithful fans that have been beaten down - time and time again - by the failures of their favorite team. The juxtaposition of a bunch of 18-20 year olds harboring an irrational belief in themselves to their fans who have been waiting for this type of excitement since the 60's and literally can't believe what they are seeing is simply delightful as a hockey fan. I, as well as everyone else, took my potshots at the Toronto Maple Leafs organization as they spent the last decade completely embarrassing themselves, but their resurgence is - without question - good for the sport. I suppose the visual of an old man defying his age by shooting out of his seat to give a long overdue fist pump to someone that he could have easily grandfathered is something that could potentially be found in every NHL arena. However, the fact that it happened in a city that's been slowly dying for a bright future (that isn't lit by the end of the tunnel) and some meaningful playoff puck made this GIF that much more awesome. I think anyone that's not fearful of their own imminent demise (i.e. a Capitals fan) would agree.
You know what's sick? At the time Nashville had a 2-0 series lead after blanking their opposition twice on the road, and had all the momentum at home after overcoming the only deficit they had faced thus far. Still, as I watched overtime last night I couldn't help but think that they were the team that desperately needed the win. It's like the Blackhawks have been so goddamn resilient over their recent stretch of playoff brilliance that they have defied situational assumptions. There was no reason to think that a loss would have derailed a series that the Predators took control of in Chicago. Being up 2-1 with the next game coming on home ice is as good of a position as you could hope to be in against a team that has won three of the last seven Stanley Cups, and - somehow - that would have felt like the waking of a sleeping giant. Obviously that's of no concern after Nashville prevailed in overtime, but it's actually infuriating that the Blackhawks have gotten to the point where they still get the benefit of the doubt after blowing a multi-goal lead that was built on their only two tallies in nine-plus periods. That being said, this moment right here is when Chicago should have known that this year is not theirs...
I know they scored shortly thereafter, but when your offense has been so unproductive that even the hockey gods' attempt at taking pity on you gets turned aside then you know it's not in the cards. That didn't stop me from being fearful that Kane, Toews, Keith and the gang could/would turn things around with one bounce of the puck. However, when the Predators put the finishing touches on 3-2 overtime win the desperation save that came at 0-0 just felt oddly representative of how this entire series has gone.
To be quite honest, I didn't see this sequence of events in person. I suppose that's because it's tough to catch every minute of playoff hockey when all four games end in the extra session, but the point is that my initial knowledge of what went down came from an angry Boston twitter mob. That's why I was really looking forward to disagreeing with them. I had the rationalizations for what I soon found out was an egregious officiating gaff all planned out. My first point would have been that you can't complain about a missed call when your team dug themselves a three goal hole and pissed away their margin for error. A close second would have been the insanely truth - albeit forever nauseating - idea that the referee is always going to catch the person who retaliates. Hell, I may have even slipped in a "shit happens", and implied that the good teams are able to overcome a poor judgement call. Unfortunately, the judgement call in question was so comically bad that it renders all those fair justifications moot. Riley Nash may have temporarily lost his wits when he threw some harmless, yet easily detectable uppercut/jab. That doesn't explain the referees overlooking the one penalty that the NHL has drilled into their brains so often that a whistle should have been a Pavlovian-type reaction that - ironically enough - would have saved them from getting dogged. An obvious elbow to the head has to be called every single time, and when it's delivered to a vulnerable, defenseless player in the middle of the action there is simply no acceptable reason for missing it. The Bruins undoubtedly did enough to cost themselves the game, but that all gets forgotten when an act of braindead officiating directly results in an overtime goal before the home fans had even excepted that the person who scored it should have been in the box. P.S. Luckily for those of us who weren't in Beantown, Boston fans quickly tossed whatever sympathy they deserved at the opposing team in the tunnel. I know it's not fair to treat one or two jackasses like they represent an entire fanbase. However, when the kid who tried to steal a stick acted like a victim when he got it whacked out of his hand I instantly felt better about the result of a game that was altered by mind numbing officiating...
P.P.S. Want to take a guess who is currently Public Enemy #1 in Boston right now?
Erik Karlsson And Mike Hoffman Linked Up To Create What Can Only Be Considered Hockey Porn4/17/2017
While I admit that the highs (and the much more self loathing lows) of playoff hockey correlate greatly with the experience of watching pornography, I try to avoid using one in reference to the other. It's just an unnecessary association that creates a messy conflict of interests. Unfortunately, in this case, I don't think there is any other option. The heart-pounding speechlessness that came over me when Mike Hoffman provided the climactic finish for Erik Karlsson's seductive handiwork was reminiscent of...well...you get the idea. Seriously, it's a good thing no one strolled into my apartment during the immediate aftermath of that play or one glance at my face would have gave them the impression that they caught me dick in hand. I almost wish a dish that nifty gave me stiffy, because that was worthy of at least a 20 minute tuck into the waistband. The breathtakingly sexy sauce? The smoothness with which the puck met it's recipient? The orgasmic finish that seemed to come out of nowhere? That was picture perfect hockey porn in it's most unadulterated form, and I won't let anyone that doesn't reach peak arousal during the NHL playoffs tell me differently. Have To Appreciate Marc-Andre Fleury's Attempt At Hiding A Puck That Was Clearly In His Net4/17/2017 You know, I bet there were more than a few sphincters that tightened in Western Pennsylvania when the goalie who is somehow still technically a rookie while also having a Stanley Cup under his belt went down with an injury before the first puck drop of the Penguins playoff run. Pittsburgh may be in the enviable position of having two relatively trustworthy net minders, but it couldn't have felt like a good omen to lose the guy backstopped them to a championship during pregame warmups. Especially when their #1 defenseman is on the shelf for the entirety of the postseason. Luckily, Marc-Andre Fleury has eased those concerns by not only giving a Matt Murray-esque effort in relief, but by showcasing some veteran gamesmanship along the way. The officials may have needed a sledgehammer to pound Zach Werenski's rocket out from the depths of the net from which it became embedded, but MAF hid that biscuit in his basket better than a full bag of that annoying ass Easter grass ever could. It was thee most hopeless of efforts considering the puck was obviously in the net and there's nothing short of 1,000 cameras that could have proven that, but it's one that you can't help but appreciate from a proud guy that's desperately looking to hold on to the starting job that he undoubtedly thinks is rightfully his. Probably would have been better off actually stopping the shot, but - with the way that laser was labeled - temporarily making it look like he may have potentially stopped it was the closest he was going to get...
SI- FC Copenhagen and Brondby IF squared off in an important Danish Superliga fixture on Monday. Not only are the two clubs separated by just eight miles, they’re first and second in the Superliga table. So you’d expect things to get pretty heated, but heated enough that fans started throwing dead rats on the field?
The rodent tossing happened as Copenhagen’s Ludwig Augustinsson lined up to take a corner late in the match, which means the fans held onto the rats for the better part of two hours. ----- Truth be told, there's probably no good time to rain deceased rats from the stands towards your favorite team's biggest rival. I know there might be some cultural differences here since international footy fans tend to make American sports fans seem rational, composed, and...well...sober by comparison. Still - even by Denmark's standards - I can't help but feel like tossing dead rats on the field of play makes you an overbearing asshole. Hell, even the ingrates in the foreign, decriminalized territory of Florida have the self respect to limit their projectile vermin to those that are mass produced and made of rubber. With that said, the level of dedication here is undeniable. I have never had the urge to pocket a rapidly decomposing rat for hours on end in hopes of using it as a sign of disrespect towards the visiting team, and - in the weirdest of ways - it's kind of making me feel like less of a fan. These people are unquestionable social pariahs of the highest order, but they are social pariahs that love their goddamn team enough to lug around animal carcasses for the vast majority of the match. I don't know if that amount of undying loyalty and commitment is enough to earn them the right to litter the pitch with the remains of sewer dwellers, but it's probably as close as they are going to get to justifying their acts of public indecency. They may have inconvenienced the clean up crew, but at least they sacrificed the eternal use of their nostrils to do so.
Awful Announcing with the transcript:
Voice one: “If you don’t rip Dougie Hamilton, I will. Stupidest fucking penalty you can take.” Voice two: “Well, how about the T.J. Brodie one too? But you’re right, that Dougie Hamilton one.” Voice one: “Does he have a fucking brain? He doesn’t. He’s stupid.” Voice two: “I don’t know him that well.” Voice one: “He’s not an intelligent guy.” Voice two: “You’re Mr. Flames, so you probably know him better than I do.” Voice three: “That’s probably their best chance to win here, I think, in this series.” Voice one: “They’re done. They can’t win four of five.” ----- No matter how hilarious I find this candid conversation to be, I am going to fake a stern expression and take the grown up route in refusing to defend an employee of the Calgary Flames who criticized the cerebral capacity of a player based on nothing more than a couple of penalties. Obviously he didn't think the mic was as hot as his scorched-Earth take on Dougie Hamilton's IQ, but it's still indefensible to be that - for lack of a more accurate term - mean towards a defensemen who unnecessarily put his team at odds defensively. That said, I kind of appreciate it. As a Devils' fan that spent all season listening to Ken Daneyko wax on-and-on about a team whose play was as poetic as the shitty anthology I "penned" in crayon during elementary school, getting some brutal honestly from an analyst was refreshing. The man behind the shockingly disparaging words - who has yet to identified - definitely went above and beyond his call of duty, but he was probably closer to being right than wrong. I'm sure Dougie Hamilton does - indeed - have a fucking brain, but I'm going to assume that he didn't use it to the best of it's abilities when he apparently took "the stupidest fucking penalty you can take". If I were a gambling man then I would bet the Flames' fanbase related more to this unfiltered rant at the expense of their top pairing defenseman's decision making than the watered down, matter-of-fact explanation they got during his shameful glide to the penalty box. It was in no way appropriate, but it did a much better job of representing the frustrations of those whose reaction to their team dropping 29(!) straight games in Anaheim was likely not meant for the ears of kids 13 years of age and under. |
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