I got to be honest, I'm a little happy for Sabres' fans. As much fun as it is to poke fun at the poor, unfortunate franchises that can't ever seem to get out of their own way, it caters to the Devils' fan in me seeing them exude pure excitement every time their #1 pick gives them even the smallest taste of what's to come throughout his tenure. I haven't the slightest idea what Matej Pekar was thinking with that move, as the 4th round pick basically wheeled head-on over the tracks while the train was coming through. However, speaking as someone that had a Pavlovian response whenever #13 touched the puck last season, the impressiveness of the hit isn't anywhere near as important as the name of the person who delivered it. I don't know how endless the love will be Rasmus Dahlin, as I don't him playing an integral part in an immediate playoff run like Nico Hischier did. However, for now, he could accidentally piss off a balcony onto a Sabres' fan and they would treat that shower like it were made of gold by seductively rubbing into their scalp like they were the lead in an 'Herbal Essences' commercial. Okay fine. That one got away from me, but that's what tends to happen when a fan base can't control its man-crush. Regardless, Dahlin has got quite the long leash on him, which is ironic since fawning over a blue chip prospect can become as much of an obsession as playing with a new puppy. Let's hope the team doesn't make that feeling fade too quickly, if only for the sake of Jack Eichel's sanity.
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SportingNews- Former NFL tight end Kellen Winslow Jr. was once again denied bail Thursday, with a judge strangely citing a popular movie to explain his decision.
Winslow was arrested earlier this month in San Diego on multiple charges, including rape, kidnapping and first-degree burglary. He faces multiple life terms if convicted on the more serious charges. Already denied bail after his arrest, Winslow and his attorney went to Superior Court in San Diego again Thursday to suggest he be released on bail and subjected to house arrest, using the surveillance cameras already in Winslow's home. According to TMZ.com, the judge denied bail, citing a Hollywood thriller. "So, what about all these movies I watch like 'Mission Impossible' and stuff like that where they create this endless loop?" the judge said. "So the guy, like the Russians watching something … he sees everything is fine and meanwhile, Tom Cruise and all his folks are going around the scene and doing all this stuff." Playing along with the scenario, Winslow's attorney responded, "Tom Cruise isn't on our team yet." ---------- As someone who quite frequently has issues understanding how ass backwards the justice system can be, I - as much as anyone - enjoyed having a ruling broken down in terms of popular culture. Now, in this particular case I didn't need too much help wrapping my head around the reasons why someone who was charged with being a repeat offender of unspeakable sex crimes wasn't allowed to await his fate from the comfort of his own couch...
Still, I appreciated the irony of the 'Mission: Impossible' reference, as the request of a team of lawyers whose mission is starting to look impossible got shot down. Honestly, the Ethan Hunt of defense attorneys probably couldn't make a case that the person whose prospective rap(e) sheet makes him look like a bizarro world Sandusky should be allowed within a single exit point of the outside world. Therefore, not letting Kellen Winslow Jr. 'Tom Cruise' his through an unlikely escape from behind bars was nothing if not fitting. Assuming, of course, that the upholding of justice doesn't end in the same place as this judge's otherwise useless action movie knowledge, I approve of this cinematic swatting of a ballsy plea for bail. P.S. We're all in the agreement that there's probably some sort of CTE correlation here, right? I'm not excusing Kellen Winslow of (allegedly) raping an entire retirement community as much as I am trying to understand what else could possibly make someone wake up one random morning and start forcibly sodomizing the elderly. 
Whew. I, for one, am relieved. I was on pins and needles wondering whether or not a prestigious franchise in a historic hockey market whose mere existence sells itself was going to sabotage their chances of adding a superstar by once again trying too hard to impress. Good to know that if they do happen to miss out on John Tavares then at least they'll receive the consolation prize of yet another illustrious lesson in the art of pitch meeting persuasion! It would suck to come so close yet so far from solidifying themselves at the center position for the better part of the next decade, but not as much as knowing they made the same mistake twice! Just a quick question, are we assuming that all hockey players have the exact same mindset? While that's actually probably more true than it is false, the idea that the Maple Leafs think they are slowly but surely creating a foolproof blueprint for enticing talent as if said "talent" has a uniform set of interests, beliefs, and priorities is a little strange. Tinkering with the acuteness of their angle is probably smart, but acting like they have a cheatsheet to the 77(!) page handbook that John Tavares is personally judging prospective employers off of? Eh, not so much.
Again, I'm glad they learned from the unbelievably stupid miscalculation that a hockey player would be swayed by the presence of a political figure. I'm just not so sure that gives them a leg up in the Tavares' sweepstakes as much as it puts them on an even playing field with all the other organizations that weren't laughably out-of-touch with the prevailing personalities of players. If there is an NHL team that can just be itself in a "love me or leave me" sort of the way then it's the Toronto Maple Leafs, as a regionally famous CEO was never needed to convey that their future is only surpassed in brightness by their spotlight. I just can't believe they had to smoke a superstar out of a room that's reputable in its own right by stinking of Sabres-esque desperation to figure it out in the first place. 
Color me skeptical. I might end up owing Chris Bosio an apology (or the Detroit Tigers a shaming) in the long run, but the idea that the one time in which a professional sports team was actually quick to cut ties is the instance in which they were unprofessional in their investigation seems at least mildly far fetched. If anything, organizations typically tend to defend themselves from the top down for too long, so the thought of the Tigers' GM, Assistant GM, and Manager all sat down and unanimously sided with a paranoid clubhouse attendant over a pitching coach due solely to the contextless utterance of an animal seems a little odd. Speaking extremely generally, older (predominantly white) men who make their living in baseball don't exactly have a storied history of being too sensitive in regards to racially charged innuendo, and there was apparently nothing hung about the jury of his own peers that found him guilty of crossing the line. Now, I'm not calling Chris Bosio a liar, but I do feel inclined to look into the functionality of his family life after he swore on the graves of his dead parents (RIP) that all he did was allude to the primate-like facial features of one of his white players. If not because he was given free reign to retroactively put harmless words in his own mouth then because he clearly doesn't know how nicknames work...
As it turns out, there is a benefit to the internet's endless desire to be in the know. It might illicit angry, un-nuanced mobs on damn near a daily basis, but at least it stops the (allegedly) guilty party from influencing the public by speaking their side of the story first. I only wanted to know exactly what the "insensitive comments" were because I'm a nosy and intrusive sports fan that has been made to feel entitled to such information by too much time on Twitter. However, if I did know then I would probably have a much firmer grasp on which party to hurl insult after insult at right about now. It's really tough to believe that a low level employee was just going about his day, heard the term "spider monkey" off in the distance, automatically assumed the absolute worst, and managed to convince the ENTIRE organization that one of their coaches was an intolerant asshole. That said, when you let said coach craft his personal account (that's currently not even being backed by the person he was supposedly talking to) around a charge as vague and benign as being "insensitive" then it's pretty easy for him to sway the court of public opinion in his favor. It's innocent until proven guilty, and if the prosecution has a case then they really should have already laid it on the table. If not because sports fans want to know how inappropriate the verbiage has to be to get you canned with the quickness then because, more likely than not, it would preemptively make any sort of defense look both dumb and discriminatory. UPDATE: ...there it is, and with it goes Chris Bosio's employability...
"Bosio called the attendant, who is African-American, a “monkey,” according to four team sources. The remark was directed toward the young man, who was collecting towels from the coaches’ room at the time, during a post-game gripe session in which Bosio was lamenting about a pitcher. During this exchange, Bosio made a derogatory comment about one of the Tigers pitchers and then gestured toward the attendant before adding, “like this monkey here,” the sources said. The attendant pushed back at Bosio for the comment, and an additional team employee witnessed the exchange. Bosio was provided an opportunity to apologize to the attendant after his outburst but declined to do so, according to multiple sources." (h/t TheAthletic) 
I blame Ray Shero, but it's not because he has reportedly identified a need for more scoring and is at least thinking about addressing it by way of overpaying a player that doesn't necessarily fit the system. He wouldn't be the first, nor would he be the last NHL GM to voluntarily make an objectively unwise investment because he had the money at his disposal. Instead, I blame Ray Shero because, much like a mother that thinks no one is ever good enough for her baby, his work in nurturing the Devils from the talent barren wasteland they were has pretty much convinced me that very few free agents are worthy of their time. It's actually quite impressive when you think about it. Fans in particular tend to fawn over free agency, but in three short years the franchise's new figurehead has made me largely numb to its allure with his meticulous scouring of the trade market. To be clear, I don't think someone who is basically a lock for 25 goals from the tough areas of the ice would be the worst addition to a team that's currently depending on quite a few if's to come to fruition in building on a promising playoff appearance. I just don't think he would be the best building block for a team that has structural flaws elsewhere and that's what we've come to expect when Ray Shero gets to stacking the brick and mortar. In JvR, you're basically talking about a player who brings more of a scoring touch than Pat Maroon, for at least 1.5x -2x the price and term, but almost none of the other characteristics that made Pat Maroon a solid contributor in the lineup down the stretch. Neither is fast, but at least one of them makes up for it by being hard on the puck and bringing a productive and possessive presence along the boards in the offensive zone. So while it would be nice to bring home a Jersey boy, doing so a cost that (within the framework of their attacking style) might not even seem effective if he does hit 30 goals next season seems like a reach. With how long the Devils have waited to make a splash in free agency, James van Riemsdyk would make for an underwhelming prize. I understand the want, but yet another left winger doesn't come close to filling a need in the lineup. These 5x5, 6x6, or 7x7 deals that are given to secondary players in their late 20's so, sooo rarely seem smart in hindsight. That doesn't mean you can't offer them when you have the luxury of excess cap space, but it does mean that you should probably consider circumstances and put both the target and team in the best position to succeed in the long run when you do. Even at its most ideal this isn't a match made in heaven, so what happens when that honeymoon phase comes to an end as (::knock on wood::) the Devils' window to truly contend begins? 
::breathes deep and internalizes urge to poke fun at the Panthers' proclivity to prematurely throw away talent:: Ok, now... Talk about a catch 22. Developmental camp is too valuable in judging the current status of legitimate prospects to have even 15 seconds of a single session wasted on some kid off the street who was desperately seeking the fickleness of social media fame. However, wouldn't putting some attention-starved bender through an intense workout with young and hungry prospective pros that were chomping at the bit to make an impression provide the ultimate in poetic justice to someone who tried to make a mockery of it? Dale Tallon obviously did the right thing in exterminating that disease before he could go viral. Seeing as the Panthers hardly even tolerate plastic rats on the ice anymore, they certainly shouldn't accommodate human vultures. That said, had their GM and coaches not been pressed for time that was undoubtedly spent more wisely then it would have been mighty nice to see those retweets roll in as this dude was getting rag-dolled in a "be careful what you wish for..." type situation. As someone who likes to see passing internet glory come organically, I am glad this anonymous kid didn't get what he was looking for in some empty online encouragement of his idiocy. I am, however, a bit disappointed that he didn't get sent into the concussion protocol by getting what he had coming to him in acting just as recklessly narcissistic as this streaker...
Well, I think we might have our answer after all. I was a wee bit concerned that no information had come out in regards to why Michael Thomas had an excused absence from attending the Saints' mandatory mini-camp, but clearly it was just a precautionary measure to ensure the safety of his own teammates. I thought I'd be looking closer for him come training camp, but if he wants to keep overhead pressing all-terrain vehicles through traffic as a way to start opening up his sweat glands in the morning then maybe he's better off not joining the team until their tasked with tackling targets that aren't chiseled out of granite. As if the only player in NFL history to record 200 receptions over his first two seasons wasn't an intimidating enough presence on the practice field prior to this offseason, now his elite level hand-fighting is liable to do enough damage to leave a cornerback's healthcare liable? Anyone who plans on covering the Saints' #1 wideout this season is going to need safety, and I'm most certainly not talking about another inferior mortal. They say a picture is worth 1,000 words, but I'd argue this one speaks of 1,000 reps...per day, as it damn near rendered me speechless. I'm pretty sure Michael Thomas departed the Pro Bowl, went straight from the airport to the gym, and the only time he's left it since was to drop by OTA's and let the Saints know he's switching from wide receiver to weapon of mass destruction...
What do we assume a ticket to a weekday afternoon game for the Okotoks Dawgs is running people these days? Five dollars and change, give or take given that loonie exchange rate? Whatever it is, I can guarantee that all 275 fans in attendance got their money's worth once that first seat cleared the dirt. I mean, there is very little else that can happen during a minor league baseball game that's as worth the price of admission as an adult temper tantrum that furnishes the first base line, so I'm glad these folks got in at the ground floor. Granted, I can't speak to how well Mitch Schmidt (perfect name, btw) will manage his anger going forward, but that form is undoubtedly not of a man that just threw his first or last chair. The backwards overhead toss that maximizes both lower body strength and hang time is such a veteran move that it would make Bobby Knight blush. With what I can only imagine is a limited amount of entertainment options in Alberta, I think the mere possibility of a repeat performance is enough to make the Okotoks Dawgs the hottest ticket in province. Come one, come all, to see the best seat in the house get tossed in the general direction of an underpaid umpire! 
Let's set the scene. Arkansas up 1-0 in a best of three series. Up 3-2 in top of the 9th. Two outs, with only one to go before claiming the championship as their own. In the infamous words of Terrell Owens, get ya popcorn ready... Most would call that a heartbreaking turn of events that could easily carry over to a third and deciding game that was one competent call-off away from not being at all necessary, because...well...that's exactly what it is. Arkansas would have been totally justified in having nightmares of their three fielders standing helplessly in a circle like they were trying to decide who was driving to the bar as a championship bounced right out of their grasp. You know, if not for the fact that waking up in a cold sweat probably wouldn't prove beneficial to them in foretelling tonight's final. That said, it could also be described as simply as "welp, that's college sports for ya". For, as many times as we are reminded that the NCAA is a solid stepping stone to the pros, it's just as often that we are reminded that it's not only an amateur association in its laughable lack of compensation. I heard about the most untimely of fundamental fuck ups before I saw it, and I have to admit that I was actually expecting worse. That's not to downplay how deeply that mental image will be burned into their brains if the Razorbacks don't swing with a shortness of memory tonight, but it is to say that I've seen pressure baked situations make college kids look dumber. Those momentary lapses don't always set into motion a monumentally volatile example of Murphy's Law, but when they do it's impossible not to be checked with the reality that it's especially not over until it's over when the game is being played between 18-22 year olds. Right, ESPN?
And this, right here, is the type of thing you can only feel comfortable participating in during an event as unique as the World Cup. In almost every other form of competition this would be considered a bad omen, as the elimination round hasn't even kicked off yet. However, in a sport fueled by such fierce, international rivalries that only get to truly come to a head once every four years, not a single wound should go free of salt. Humility? Ain't nobody got time for that! Modesty? Maybe next month, but not even the irony of an impending matchup with a Mexican team whose advancement was the new life that was born of the shocking death of the reigning champs that Brazilians mocked through the streets is enough to silence the hooligans during the much anticipated period in which their peak patriotism is encouraged. That funeral procession screams "be careful what you wish for...", but nobody could possibly care anywhere near enough to sober up and listen. As well they shouldn't, for when four years of the most loyal of fandom get packed into a 4.5 week span, every second you spend still alive is to be shamelessly celebrated...even if that entails dancing on the dead with props that symbolize the 6 feet they'll remain under until 2022. Major League Baseball Is Potentially Loosening Both Their Sphincter And Their Restrictions On Cleats6/28/2018 
Yahoo- Major League Baseball and the MLB Players Association are discussing changes to the league’s footwear policy that would relax the restrictions on colors and designs players can use on their cleats, sources familiar with the negotiations told Yahoo Sports.
Multiple officials said they are optimistic that the sides will come to an agreement and modernize the types of shoes available in-game to players. After rules were loosened for last year’s successful Players Weekend – which, sources said, is expected to return this season – both sides saw the benefit to a more open policy. The public censuring of the rules by the Chicago Cubs’ Ben Zobrist and Cleveland Indians’ Mike Clevinger expedited the urgency of the sides to move in a mutually beneficial direction, sources said. The deal is far from done, as the involvement of two branches of each office – labor relations and business – complicates the talks. One source familiar with the negotiations expects at a minimum the relaxation of rules on shoe color and style, though just how relaxed is unclear. ----- I want to credit Major League Baseball for getting over their obsession with obsessive uniformity, but all it does is remind me that the bar for appearing open-minded is so, so, so low. Better late than never I suppose, but the fact that it's taken until 2018 for braintrust of baseball men to realize that there's almost no risk to what would be considered a huge reward to their players sheds light on a damn near disgraceful disconnect. In a "keep expectations low and it's easier to meet them" sort of way, it makes sense for the MLB to keep a dress code that's prep school strict, but giving guys in their early 20's to early 30's freedom of footwear is such a simple, simple way to ingratiate yourself to both them and the fleeting number of fans their age. Now, I shouldn't expect a bunch of old, repressed white men that still can't see the fruitful forest of social media marketing beyond the primly-trimmed trees of their own arrogance to understand the interests of the relatively youthful. After all, even the much more personality friendly NFL (admittedly, that's not saying much) hasn't fully plucked the stick from their ass in regards to colorful cleats. Still, the idea that it's taken this long for a multi-billion dollar operation with struggling popularity to put in the half a second of "hipness" required to see multiple shoe options as a potential starting point is a painful reminder of how out-of-touch the top is from the bottom. Whatever kudos I would have been willing to offer MLB for relaxing on their re-kick-tions just got tossed in the trash, as a deal this risk adverse being "far from done" is proof positive that the allowance of bargain basement originality is just being used as another bargaining chip. 
With all due respect to his work growing the game overseas, I'm starting to think that one of many reasons Klay Thompson is so beloved in China is because he makes becoming an NBA star seem like an attainable goal. Developing into one of the top 3-5 shooters in the history of basketball is most definitely not an attainable goal, but it sure as hell doesn't seem that way when the pro athlete that lays claim to that ranking is getting absolutely roasted in pop-a-shot by a little girl under half his age. Don't get me wrong, there's no shame in getting shot out of the arcade by a deadly accurate floater that would make Steph Curry's release look lethargic, but it's still a very humanizing moment for a back-to-back NBA champion. Given that it's not the China Klay's first foray into foreign failure, maybe seeming merely mortal works to the advantage of his affability in the Far East...
I mean, other than being a 18-24 inches taller than most of his international admirers, it's not like Klay Thompson possesses any personality traits that make him seem like an intimidating presence. As unbelievably talented as he is, the guy appears as though he's been working up the nervous energy to ask a girl to dance since he came into the league. If you ask me, that's not only the type of awkward that might get enhanced by a grade schooler going all "Golden State Warriors" on that NBA All-Star ass, but also the type of awkward he needs to be for people who stand as tall as his waistband to feel completely comfortable rolling up to him with a Sharpie and a toaster...
I feel robbed. Cheated, really. I didn't even know who Chris Bosio was until five minutes ago, but now I feel as though I need to know what he said to get himself fired. We'll likely never find out, as - judging by the abruptness of the decision - it could be a very poor reflection on the Detroit Tigers for hiring him in the first place, but that just doesn't sit well with me in this current media climate of unabashed intrusiveness. That had to be one humdinger of a slanderous barb to get him quickly crossed off a payroll that's probably no stranger to mildly disgruntled employees after only half a season. However, to truly stigmatize the stupidity of people with such great gigs that sacrifice them by way of verbal and physical harassment a bit more information than "insensitive comments" is needed. In all seriousness, this isn't the first time or last time that someone's mouth will have quickly cost them their job in sports, but having words that were uttered privately be gotten out ahead of by significant action publicly is quite the novel strategy in addressing a surefire scandal. Selfishly, I would have rather aided in shaming Chris Bosio into unemployment after his quote, that sounds like it very well might carry some sort of ___-ist label, inevitably leaked and his employer was strong-armed into cutting ties. That said, a tip of the hat is due to the Detroit Tigers for learning from the mistakes of so many organizations that failed miserably before them and taking a proactive approach to running a professional team by maintaining a positive, all-inclusive working environment. Apparently it's a lot more difficult than it reads. 
YahooSports- Bradley, the Arizona Diamondbacks’ ace reliever, is the guest on this week’s Yahoo Sports MLB Podcast, and a perfectly entertaining chat with our own Tim Brown took a hilarious turn when Bradley talks about Adrian Houser, the Milwaukee Brewers pitcher who recently barfed on the field. As it turns out, Houser used to live with Bradley. As it further turns out, Houser’s hurl might not be the grossest thing that happened on an MLB field this season....
“I’ll just tell it. It was actually this year. I was warming up to go in a game. I knew I had the next hitter. I knew he was on deck. The at-bat was kinda taking a little bit, and as a bullpen guy in these big situations, I call ’em nervous pees. I don’t have to pee a lot, but I know I have to pee before I go in the game. I can’t believe I’m telling you this. It’s a 2-2 count, and I’m like, ‘Man, I have to pee. I have to go pee.’ So I run in our bathroom real quick, I’m ready to go. I’m trying to pee and I actually (expletive) my pants. Like, right before I’m about to go in the game, I pooped my pants. I’m like ‘Oh my gosh,’ like I know I’m a pitch away from going in the game, so I’m scrambling to clean myself up. I get it cleaned up the best I can, button my pants up, and our bullpen coach Mike Fetters says, ‘Hey, you’re in the game.’ “So I’m jogging into the game to pitch with poop in my pants essentially… I did check the mirror. White pants, we’re at home. I actually told my teammates. I stepped out of the bathroom, ‘Hey, am I OK? I just (expletive) myself. I’m about to go in this game.’ They didn’t believe me until they, unfortunately, saw the mess in the bathroom because I didn’t have time. I had to go in the game. “It was the most uncomfortable I’ve ever been on the mound. And I actually had a good inning. I had a clean inning, and I walked in the dugout and I was like, ‘Guys, I just (expletive) myself.’ They didn’t believe me, and then the bullpen came in and they’re like ‘Oh my god, you have to see this.’ … I just felt awkward, uncomfortable and just gross.” --------- I know this is a weird thing to say about someone who came clean about dirtying his drawers, but I'm a tad bit skeptical as to the extent of Archie Bradley's fecal failure. Lying that you did, in fact, crap yourself in public as a grown ass man wouldn't make much sense. However, is it at all possible that this is being selflessly exaggerated to make us further forget that his former teammate/roommate was unable to keep his lunch down while standing on the mound? Like, maybe he took "hey look, Ernie pees pants too!" and decided to drop a mean deuce on the entire premise as a deflection? After all, Adrian Houser's recent mishap was the only reason the topic of uncontrollable bodily functions came up in the first place...
To be clear, I'm sure this story is mostly true. I'm also sure that you don't completely crap yourself in tight white pants, desperately hurry to clean it up, walk out in front of tens of thousands of people, perform athletically in a pressure situation, and get to tell that tale on your own accord at a later date. The way this breach of bathroom etiquette was being described, it sounds like Archie Bradley would have needed to have pull-ups on underneath his compression shorts to avoid immediate staining. Therefore, I think were actually looking at more of a timely attended to shart situation. It's hilarious and embarrassing either way, but people that have actually lost control of their bowels in public might not appreciate the implication that an active professional athlete truly knows what it's like to step into their undeniably soiled slacks as they try to waddle into a safe place without being seen. 
As someone who appreciates almost all forms of athleticism as much as I appreciate the occasional murder mystery, I'm not sure how to feel about this. I should start by offering peace to those now eternal resting and my deepest sympathies to those closest to them. We may not know how any of the chapters played out as of yet, but these are two sad stories that had horrific endings and they should be treated as such. That being said, I can't help wonder how soon is too soon to admit that I'm exponentially more intrigued by the impending investigation surrounding the dead body found in a beer cooler than I am by the mid-season Braves game that it was found prior to. All due respect to the Giants' attempt at regaining some relevance in the NFC East, but how their secondary might shake out in training camp isn't exactly reverberating with me as much as the cadaver found in the basement of their shutdown cornerback. Personally, I blame Netflix for society's Pavlovian-style slobbering at the thought of the next unsolved murder, but if they produced hours of binge-worthy content regarding these two untimely deaths as soon as this weekend I suppose I'd have to take some responsibility for how easily I'd be lured in by a 12-part series (that's 4-5 parts too long) with has an eerily succinct name like 'The Cooler'. Admittedly, it's easier to keep the open eye I have on these stories ignorant seeing as it looks like the only familiar party involved, Janoris Jenkins, was out of town at the time. Still, it concerns me how little I was concerned and how much I was captivated by the merging of multiple interests when one of them is inherently tragic. Sidenote: Aside from having a circumstantial disconnect with reality for entertainment purposes, I do have a question that should display exactly how many hours of mindless television I've watched over the years. As a firm believer in justice, isn't allowing tens of thousands of people to unknowingly stomp all over a potential crime scene a violation of it? I'm sure there's a CSI: Wherever episode in which someone gets their can kicked in a stadium of some sort, and I'd be willing be bet that Horatio Caine wasn't trying to conduct serious business around panicky, underpaid employees that were trying to find a less contaminated container out of which to serve overpriced booze. Just strikes me as somewhat odd that a little rain can force a reschedule and an super suspicious death on premises can't. I can't be alone in that. 
I'm not sure there's all that much that needs to be said prior to the ceremony in which the full extent of Martin Brodeur's contributions to both the sport of hockey and the goaltending position will be truly honored. After all, his immediate induction into the 'Hockey Hall Of Fame' is only newsworthy in how non-newsworthy it is. The numbers, which are record breaking in all the ways that matter the most, have long spoken for themselves, and the voters who are more visual learners already had plenty of time to study up on the trophy case that's the size of a walk-in closet. Simply put, you could have set your calendar to this announcement years out and rested easy that you wouldn't be made to look either stupid or presumptuous, which is a rarity in today's sports' climate. That being said, this does provide an excellent opportunity to take a walk down memory lane, and boy is it an absolute treat to anyone that has a shred of interest in the history of hockey. The fact of the matter is that due to both the dominance of the man who's been affectionately coined 'Marty' and the NHL's apparent familiarity with elementary geometry, we will probably never see another player like him. Even if you ignore that his style of stopping pucks was novel in how casually styleless it appeared most of the time, his ability to negate a forecheck as an All-Star caliber third defenseman revolutionized his position. So much so, in fact, that it made the league step in and force a devolution by actively handcuffing one of their most talented players while he was still near the peak of his powers. You can loathe him as person, and/or diminish what we did because of who he did it behind. However, even if you remained insanely ignorant to the fact that he won two of his four Vezina Trophies behind an extremely mediocre defense and found himself in the Finals as he neared the age of 40, you'd still be foolish not to appreciate all that he brought to the sport. Whether he was the greatest pure puck-stopper of all time is up for debate. Whether he's the most accomplished is not. Accentuate those absurdly untouchable accolades with a highlight reel that epitomizes both creativity and athleticism. Add to that ridiculous resume a lasting impact on the game that unquantifiably unmatched. Whether he is the best or not is inconsequential, because - as the total package that didn't just stop shots, but undeniably suppressed and created them - Marty's universally better. There's already plenty of reasons to believe that the G.O.A.T. of goaltending just officially received his set of keys to the house that hockey built, and there will only be more as his mere existence is responsible for the redecoration of future wings. Looks Like Lavar Ball's JBA Is Off To A Hot Start, As Long We're Not Talking About From The Field6/26/2018 
I know I'm supposed to use this short clip filled with such an overwhelming amount of incompetence that it makes it seem about 10x longer than its running time to mock the JPA as a pay-for-play extension of AAU. After all, from the little I've seen, those kids look exactly as incentivized to play a style of basketball that runs counterproductive to them making any real money in the sport as you'd expect. LaVar Ball's plan to give teenagers a profitable way out from under the NCAA's iron fist was always a much better plan in theory, so laughing at the objectively hilarious execution kind of feels like a long time coming. That being said, he's certainly proved the doubters that didn't think he was capable of starting his own "semi-professional" league wrong. If nothing else, LaVar Ball has shown any and all young entrepreneurs that want to become sports' commissioners that all they really need is whole hell of a lot of dollars and a dream. Of course that dream is a lot more glamorous as such, seeing as no one should want to sit court side in an otherwise empty arena (see below) and lay claim to a product that embarrassing. However, as long as you're not at all concerned with the integrity of the sport, or thriving as an entity, or developing players, the JBA appears to be the blueprint for getting shortsighted business models off the ground while trying to capitalize on time-sensitive relevance.
 SI- An apparent recruiting pitch was leaked to SI.com's Robin Lundberg and it is in form of a voiceover the Lakers plan on using with video.
A person contacted to potentially audition for the voiceover was given directions that it should be "less Morgan Freeman/Denzel Washington, and more Jamie Foxx." The pitch entitled "Two Dreams" makes hints about who the pitch is for. The text reads: When you were just a kid In your room Dreaming from Palmdale We were dreaming too. While you dreamt, we built - built for your arrival And while we dreamt, you built too Becoming one of the world's greatest. Life's most powerful dream are the one we realize ourselves. The ones that turn us into legends. That kid from Palmdale always knew it Now the world will, too ------ And in the shortness of a poem so amazingly uninspiring that it would have to be delivered by some of the greatest narrators of our time for it to so much as keep its audience awake, we are reminded of exactly why every other team wishes the worst and nothing but the worst on the Los Angeles Lakers. Not only because they think their pitch/plea to Paul George is somehow too good for the vocal stylings of Morgan Freeman, but because their pitch/plea was hotter garbage than anything festering curbside in the Southern California sun and could still very easily prove successful. Just read that bum ass ballad that featured more imagination and construction than a season of 'Bob The Builder' and tell me the Lakers aren't the NBA equivalent of the hot chick who never had to develop a personality to attract attention. There are more writers in Los Angeles than there are fake breasts, and a little ditty that would get no better than a 'C' from any English teacher who is worth his/her salary was the best they could do? If the world were at all just then Paul George would turn down a max deal from his self-important hometown team on the grounds that their lackadaisical effort in wooing him was an insult to his level of education, literature as a whole, and spoken word. Instead, we're left wondering if he'll be able to help herd the G.O.A.T. when/if he falls for a half-assed anecdotal tale of inspiration that would only get a rise out of Disney writer's room so that they could properly express their displeasure by stomping on the script. Here's to hoping PG-13 doesn't get suckered in by a 'PG' plot line, for a man named 'Magic' should at least have to pull a couple rabbits out of his hat as opposed to falling back on regional fame and fortune. 
Eight teams. EIGHT TEAMS. That's over a quarter of the league that made it a point to target the same player that they typically targeted when entering the Devils' defensive zone the last three seasons. If that alone doesn't tell how much the thirst for any type of talent trumps money management when free agency hits then the following definitely should. In John Moore we are talking about a guy who probably cracks the 90th percentile in speed and skating during an era in which they are absolutely paramount at his position. A guy that made his biggest mark in scoring overtime goals that guaranteed victory for a team that's grown to appreciate each and every single win throughout his tenure. Somehow that guy, despite all those positives, still managed to merely make as big of an impact on Devils' fans as his name would on a suburban middle school teacher who has been navigating roll call since the early 80's. Over the last decade, New Jersey has been home to about as many defensemen that are capable of scoring in the double digits in goals per season as it has been to television shows that paint the state in a positive light. Therefore, hoping someone who has cashed in 19 times over the last two years leaves speaks louder than any fist could possibly pump. To put it more simply, the only reason John Moore should be on stage at a bidding war is if he's the auctioneer for a player with far more hockey sense than himself. That's not to say he can't adequately fill a valuable depth role, but just because he played 20 minutes a night for a playoff team doesn't mean a team that has hopes of making the playoffs should plan on paying him to play 20 minutes a night. If the league-wide level of interest in any indication then John Moore's immediate future is best compared to an oil change. It serves a purpose, but that purpose ends up being way more expensive than it should be when you prematurely agree to pay for any other problems that get found under the hood in the process. Assuming his agent is at all familiar with the handling of hot irons, he appears ready to brand a desperate team with a bad contract. The Devils have both the money and the positional need to be that team, but there aren't many emotionally invested in their success that hope that's the case. Considering their only other left-handed defensemen are an overage Andy Greene, a still-developing Will Butcher, and the unknown that is Mirco Mueller, you don't have to dig too deep to realize that John Moore might just seem more intriguing when he's not on your roster. The PGA Tour Is Checking Into The Legality Of Bryson DeChambeau's Use Of A Compass On The Course6/26/2018 
TheBigLead- On Saturday, during the third round of the Travelers Championship, Bryson took his analysis of the game just a little too far and caught the eye of the PGA Tour when he was caught by cameras using a compass to, in his own words, “figure out true pin locations.”
“The pin locations are just a little bit off every once in a while, and so I’m making sure they’re in the exact right spot. And that’s it.” They said, ‘Hey, we just want to let you know that we’re investigating the device and seeing if it’s allowable,'” DeChambeau said. “I understand. It wouldn’t be the first time this has happened.” “It’s a compass. It’s been used for a long, long time. Sailors use it,” DeChambeau said. “It’s just funny that people take notice when I start putting and playing well.” -------- Whew, and I was beginning to think that the PGA Tour, and the sport of golf in general, encouraged the use of meticulous means while in the pursuit of an illustrious end. Considering the way in which everyone reacted to Phil Mickelson's felonious breach of etiquette, I would have thought the polarity of Bryson DeChambeau's decision to dissect the ball's every direction before hitting it would be celebrated. Good to know that there's a very small middle ground between being too casual and too formal in which professional golfers are forced to reside. Now, I have no idea how using the type of compass that the perfectionist who made you look bad in third grade by turning in geometry homework that looked to be computer generated before yours appeared to be added to the pile out of the ass of your dog is at all beneficial in putting a ball in a hole. I do know, however, that it's use is only about a half a step up from the type of methodical course management that is usually gets glorified on the greens. Bryson DeChambeau might be a bit of try hard, as it's highly preposterous for him to claim that he needed to find the "true pin location" when there's a 6-foot fucking flag sticking out of it. That said, golf has built it's bombastic brand off treating itself like a science. Might as well embrace the existence of the nit-picking nuisance who somewhat inevitably showed up with a tool that guarantees the accuracy of the data when you're the same sport that analyzes everything down to the blade of grass. |
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