In theory, the fact that a woman drove a golf cart straight into a body of water after being told she doesn't have the literal or figurative motor skills to drive said golf cart marks a pretty triumphant win of a marital argument for the man in her life. However, since it should have - in practice - resulted in the husband being blamed in some form or fashion, I treat this as much more of a choke job by the wife than anything else.
Now granted, it's still a victory, but not one that I deem deserving of it's own landmark. As far as I am concerned, this is like the Sacramento Kings beating the Golden State Warriors....when the Golden State Warriors have decided to sit all their starters. This woman left the biggest weapon at her disposal - the universally accepted fallibility of femininity - sitting on the bench during the proverbial 4th quarter of the debate. You can say that this was some small, Neil Armstrong-esque step for man, but it would take a gigantic leap of faith from mankind to believe that no woman could have spun the sinking of that golf cart on it's overly critical backseat driver. After all, the fairer sex doesn't lose arguments to those that are bound by the constraints of fair reasoning. They simply concede them to logic. If anything, this memorial should have been marked with a white flag, because it denotes the rarest of inter-gender forfeits.
That's just rude. I wouldn't go as far as saying it's as disrespectful as having a grown man cross you into the hardwood before knocking down a jumper over your prone body that he proceeded to step over like a squashed bug, but it was definitely more unnecessary. I get that Tyronn Lue chose to take the over-the-top route in criticizing a team that is a LeBron mood swing away from needing a new head coach, but did he really have to do so at the expense of an organization as beleaguered as Brooklyn? After years of trying, the Nets finally get their signature win with a roster of guys whose names are unknown outside of their own neighborhood, and they can't even fully enjoy it because the coach of the opposition is reminding them how far away they are by hyperbolically referring to a hypothetical draft swap?
Here's a little newsflash. Regardless of circumstances, Brooklyn does want Cleveland's pick. Not just because is it better than the one they don't have, but because they haven't had their own since Obama's first term. Doesn't mean they need the guy that fell ass backwards into the easiest NBA job of all time to make light of their struggles by egregiously exaggerating his own. A team playing without Jeremy Lin and D'Angelo Russell rode Spencer fucking Dinwiddie (which has be an alias given to him by the Witness Protection Program) to victory over a team that's basically a lock to win the Eastern Conference, and they've got LeBron James' alien-headed puppet poking fun at them? For shame. Tyronn Lue better stop throwing that shade because he might need it next season after his acting captain, coach, and GM leave for Los Angeles and that seat starts to get a little hot. He can facetiously gripe about the impact of those losses now, because they might not be as few and far between when this is his best player...
Seriously, do questions get any more stupid than this? I mean, to even be condescending enough to imply that winning is the only thing that matters during an experience as fulfilling as attending a professional football game is just a goddamn disgrace. To suspiciously wonder whether or not their fans are such animals that their day at the stadium could be ruined by the outcome of what they are there to watch is nothing short of insulting. It's as if they don't even realize that their building is filled with tens of thousands of friendly, eternally optimistic people whose main concern is how the team they bought an affordable ticket to watch live plays the game. A good job here, a good effort there, and they are sure to spend the entirety of an objectively delightful afternoon with a smile on their face.
When it comes down to it, there really is nothing to dislike about the game day experience. I suppose the parking can be a bit costly, but can you really put a price on convenience? If you can than that price is almost certainly made up for by the pricelessly of that first refreshing sip of a $10 beer. Plus, win, lose, or draw (yes Donovan, they are possible), there's always the welcoming sights and sounds of a easily navigable concourse with a bunch of cheap, time saving entertainment options and decadent bathrooms designed to get you in and out without missing even one potentially disastrous snap. Don't get me wrong, winning is nice and all, but it's really just the cherry on top of an always palatable Sunday spent with the San Francisco 49ers. Considering recent results, I certainly hope the Bay Area faithful aren't going out their way just for the fruit garnish, because I'm pretty sure Levi's Stadium ran out of those during Game 1.
The Portland Broadcast Made A 'Hurricane Katrina' Joke During A Win Over New Orleans, Because Why Not?
Honestly, if there was a time to drop a Hurricane Katrina "joke" that you clearly had saved for a 4th quarter run in the game against the team from New Orleans then it's on the heels of Al Michaels making a Harvey Weinstein "joke" and a volleyball announcer making a9/11 "joke". If there truly is power in numbers then maybe professional broadcasters aren't getting too big for their britches in going to outlandish lengths in the insanely misguided search for an awkward laugh. At the very least, Kevin Calabro can blame an epidemic that's oddly afflicted even one of the best in business.
I should mention that it's incredibly tone deaf to use a natural disaster that took the lives of well over a thousand people and left the lives of thousands of others in ruins to take an insensitive dig at a region of the country and it's basketball team. Unfortunately, I can't do that without acknowledging that this particular jab was at least mildly relevant to the game at hand when it was thrown. I'm not condoning it or implying that it was remotely close to landing. However, I know for a fact it's not the least analogous botched attempt at comedy by a non-comedian, because - somehow - over the last week and a half I have heard two others that were even more wildly out of left field.
Christ man, if it's that hard to display topical wit without encroaching on subject matter that's probably needed it's own 'Strong' hashtag at some point then just accept that funny ain't your thing.
Either that, or just have your >140 character apology ready...
He tried to take an emotional approach after the Super Bowl, and he ended up coming off as a sore loser. He tried to take a humorous approach after a huge win over the defending champions, and he ended up coming off as a condescending sexist. Two weeks after skipping an appearance that made him come off as a coward, Cam Newton took an all-business approach and came off as...well...a deaf person, because - outside of completely mishearing it - there is no rational reason for that question to elicit that response.
So my question is, at what point do we start looking at the veritable mountain of visual evidence in front of us, and just come to the conclusion that Cam Newton is far, far better with a football in his hands than he is with a microphone in his face? If a quarterback kept throwing into double coverage you'd just assume that he's terrible at reading defenses, so why don't we assume that a quarterback is terrible at reading a room when he keeps talking his way into double the (negative) coverage?
We tend to let stats dictate what we expect from athletes, right? Well, how come we laugh when Blake Bortles throws another pick, but act shocked each time Cam Newton botches another press conference. Has he not been responsible for a disproportional number of them in comparison to his peers throughout his career?
As far as I am concerned, Cam Newton is basically Rex Grossman....If Rex Grossman had a penchant for misspeaking instead of misfiring. He's proven, time and time again, that we should expect things to go awry when he's asked to formulate socially acceptable thoughts on the fly. Sure, it seems easy to give an empty answer like "yeah, big plays are all about timing and we need to improve on our execution", but we also think it's easy to consistently complete check downs and the failure to do so cost Brock Osweiler a starting gig that was begging to be filled. Q&A's aren't Cam's strength, so he is always going to be better at 'QB sneaks' than 'QB speaks'. I think it's about time we just accept that....or ask even more mundane questions that put him in a position to succeed.
Colin Kaepernick Signed A Book Deal, And - Oddly Enough - He's Already Been Invited To Meet With NFL Owners
It would be stupid for me to stupid here and pretend I know how the list of invitees was crafted for the 'Institutional Racism 101' class that was taught to a select group of NFL owners by a select group of NFL players. I would assume that the first person you'd want to be in attendance for a productive meeting of the minds would be the guy whose original gesture eventually (d)evolved into a political mudslinging contest that required a concerted cleaning effort from both parties, but maybe the most polarizing name on the planet just so happened to slip everyone's mind when they were putting together the guest list.
Well, either that, or the NFL owners didn't want to look the guy whose resume they passed over for reasons that had absolutely nothing to do with the contents of it in the face. Until, of course, it was the same face that was going to be plastered on the inside cover of a tell-all book that featured enough damning evidence to fill not only a couple hundred pages of literature, but also a league-wide lawsuit against a billion dollar industry.
Assuming that his peers would have welcomed him in the first place, Colin Kaepernick's suspiciously timed inclusion is an adjustment of stance that isn't as simple as taking a knee or getting up off it. It's about a bunch of wealthy, power hungry white dudes becoming ever-so-slightly less close-minded after learning that the person they made an example of out of might just have a key to their closet of skeletons. Colin Kaepernick promised to publish his side of the story, and less than 24 hours later the people who manipulatively co-opted his protest to be about Patriotism are willing to acknowledge that he exists? A wise man once said "there is no such thing as a coincidence", and I'm pretty sure that person would laugh until he or she cried if you asked them if this were one.
Now, this certainly reads as a pro-Kaepernick piece. However, you can be blind enough to disagree with the statistical evidence that shows the former quarterback should still have a job and still be able to see through the transparency of NFL owners who are no better than the mean girls who only become accepting of others when they potentially have something to lose. It looks like the burn book has ended up in the wrong hands, and the people who it could affect the most are softening up their stance in hopes that some pages get ripped out before the release date. Can you think of a better reason why, all the sudden, the following GIF no longer applies?
The Saints Are Releasing Sterling Moore, Because Their Secondary Can Finally Get The Job Done With Less
The bad news is that New Orleans Saints have decided to cut ties with a solid yet unspectacular cornerback who has proven he can fill in as a bottomline starter in a pinch.
The good news is that the New Orleans Saints, for perhaps the first time in Sean Payton's entire tenure, feel comfortable enough with their current secondary to cut ties with a solid yet unspectacular cornerback who has proven he can fill in as a bottomline starter in a pinch.
By no means am I "in the know" so I was forced to consult the only source I have available on this matter, and common sense says that what is disappointing news on the surface is actually sneaky great news about the recovery of Delvin Breaux. Ken Crawley has continued to make Sean Payton and Dennis Allen look like idiots for having him on the bench the first two weeks, but Sterling Moore's transition from supplemental to expendable is a nod to the team's depth.
I don't think I'm going too far out on a limb by saying that depth doesn't exist within the unit in question without the health of person who was originally penciled in as a shutdown corner. With Marshon Lattimore jumping the route of the average rookie and living in the hip pocket of everyone he lines up across, the Saints secondary looks as cohesive as it has it ever has. I can't imagine it stands to get anything but better upon the impending return of the person that was unanimously considered it's best player at the start of training camp. Until then, the empty roster spot can go giving a hobbled o-line another pair of legs...
Now, I do feel bad for Sterling Moore. When this team was brought to the brink of starting two undrafted free agents as rookies by a sudden rush of injuries he came in off the street and almost immediately put the clamps on Odell Beckham. Just like in so many other instances the past three years, the Saints lost that game in underwhelming fashion. However, the point is that Sterling Moore was one of the only desperation additions to have panned out. Considering how many laughably flamed out, I'll always appreciate that about him. Impossible to wish him anything but the best going forward in what should be a rejuvenated career.
Compliments Don't Get Higher Than NHL Players Arguing About Not Wanting To Cover You With You Present
As if the lather had run out on the widespread waxing of Erik Karlsson's ego. I wouldn't say someone who already had two Norris Trophies sitting on his mantle burst on to the scene with last year's superhuman postseason performance. However, I'll be damned if all the antiquated radars that somehow still stubbornly exist in hockey circles didn't finally pick up on the most dynamic player at his position as he threw the Ottawa Senators on his back and cruised through the playoffs on 1.5 legs. Here I was thinking that garnering the interest of every NHL enthusiast as a Conn Smythe favorite and the most intriguing storyline for the most boring team remaining for a month and a half long playoff run was the highest of compliment, but that's simply not even close to true.
At the risk making it seem like the opinions of crusty old white dudes who may or may not have ever laced up a pair of skates that didn't belong to their children aren't the most valued, respect is undoubtedly most meaningful when it comes from your peers. So, with that in mind, there's not a conversation that could do a better job pumping the tires of the Senators' defenseman than the one in which three two-time Stanley Cup Champions tried to pawn off the responsibility of covering him for the next 30-45 seconds. Drew Doughty is probably the closest thing that every other NHL team combined has to Erik Karlsson and even he - albeit semi-facetiously - was like "you guys sure you don't want to take him?".
Imagine how good it would feel to quit your job only to sit in on the meeting where your overwhelmed co-workers pull their thinning hair out trying to figure out how to best offset your departure. I'm pretty sure that's the closest thing to the common man equivalent of listening to professional athletes become unnerved at the prospect of holding their own against another professional athlete whose playing the role of a fly on the ice while casually awaiting their decision.
Whatever The Hell Markelle Fultz And His Agent Are Pulling Is Unquestionably Not A Part Of 'The Process'
ESPN- The agent for Philadelphia 76ers guard Markelle Fultz changed his explanation Tuesday night on the treatment the No. 1 overall pick has received on his right shoulder, revising his earlier statement that fluid was drained from it during the preseason.
"He had a cortisone shot on Oct. 5, which means fluid was put into his shoulder -- not taken out," agent Raymond Brothers told ESPN on Tuesday night. "My intention earlier was to let people know that he's been experiencing discomfort. We will continue to work with (Sixers general manager) Bryan Colangelo and the medical staff."
Cortisone shots are used to relieve pain and inflammation. Sixers officials confirmed to ESPN a treatment took place several weeks ago and Fultz's inflammation and symptoms have improved.
The Sixers have been working with Fultz on his shooting mechanics, which have been altered with the shoulder irritation. In an interview earlier Tuesday, Brothers told ESPN that "Markelle had a shoulder injury and fluid drained out of the back of his shoulder. He literally cannot raise up his arms to shoot the basketball. He decided to try and fight through the pain to help the team. He has a great attitude. We are committed to finding a solution to get Markelle back to 100 percent."
Fultz, 19, has struggled to shoot the ball in his first four NBA games, resisting jump shots and relying almost exclusively on drives to the basket. He is shooting 33 percent (9-of-27) from the floor and 50 percent (6-of-12) from the free throw line. Off the bench, he has averaged 19 minutes.
I think even the most devout believers in 'The Process' would tell you it's become more than a bit of a punchline. If the promise shown by Joel Embiid and Ben Simmons is any indication then it might very well produce a quality basketball that is geared to compete in the lowly Eastern Conference for the foreseeable future. Still, the course of action put in motion by Sam Hinkie is largely just a hypothetical set of ever-changing operatives that hinge - almost exclusively - on health. The fact that a person who - prior to this year - had played 31 (insanely impressive) games in his three year career has adopted 'The Process' as his nickname is an indisputable sign that one step back can be the precursor to two steps forward. Essentially, even the most depressing of news can signal eventual development and be treated as progress, albeit facetiously by people outside of Philadelphia.
In fact, I'd say there's only thing that is an absolute no-no in the Sixers' long-belated climb back into relevance, and that is playing through an injury that is obviously hampering the actively blind optimism of the unknown. I don't want to speak for Sixers fans, but - with how patient they've been with past prospects - I'd imagine the last thing they'd want to see if the #1 overall pick that their team traded up for crack the red and blue lens on their vision for the future with a broke ass, unsightly shooting stroke. The most redeeming quality of 'The Process' is it's fluidity, but that's not in reference to the chemical makeup of the shoulder by which it's fruition ultimately rests on.
Honestly, I don't know why an agent is wasting all this time clarifying whether or not his client is getting junk taken out of his arm or put in it. If Markelle Fultz's well being is truly the thing that has him out there making Rajon Rondo look like a sharpshooter by comparison then why is he even on the floor. He plays for the one organization that historically has no problem deciding to run it back next year before this year has even hit it's stride. Sam Hinkie didn't become a sacrificial lamb and his career didn't die so that a 19 year old with a bum shoulder could sabotage the blueprint of the house he planned to build with the incessant bricking of free throws. So Markelle Fultz should take some time off to heal whatever it is that has him out there looking like Andre Roberson in a score-first combo-guard's body.
You know what's even crazier than a first year cornerback doing his job in locking down one side of the field at a rate this statistically unforeseen amongst first year players at any position? The fact that I'm writing about it no more than 5 games into his NFL career and that somehow feels long-belated. Even during the first two games when the Saints were still waiting for the black cloud of piss poor defense's past to pass over, Marshon Lattimore was making sure those completions weren't sailing above his head. Now that New Orleans boasts a (::knock on all the wood::) competent complimentary unit on the other side of the ball, however, the 21 year old's impact on a rejuvenated secondary that's already one pick away from matching last year's total is all the more obvious.
There will inevitably come a time when Marshon Lattimore gets toasted, and the nicest possible thing I can say about him thus far is that my initial reaction will be one of surprise when it does finally happen. As a Saints fan, it had been engrained in me through years of watching overpaid defensive backs trail the play by 10+ yards (on the off-chance they didn't take a penalty by desperately clutching to their receiver after the first 5) to expect every pass downfield to result in a play that gains at least 20+ yards. I think I speak for every member of the Who Dat Nation when I say that broken coverages had broken our spirit. We had become desensitized to pass defense that felt about as secure as an undersized blanket that leaves your feet exposed in the dead of winter.
That said, we're not even halfway through his rookie season, and the Saints first round draft pick has inspired a level of confidence that I never even knew existed. I don't want to overstate things here, but Marshon Lattimore has taught me how to smile when the Saints are on the field and Drew Brees is not. One day that number '23' will (hypothetically) be on the black & gold back of a player in hopeless pursuit, but the fact that it hasn't happened yet is almost as surreal as the fact that I have to actively convince myself that it actually will so as to lesson the shock value when (or if) it does.
Speak on it, Kenny...
Well, in all fairness, if you're going to bust out an insanely untimely and unmistakably insinuated threat of gun violence in a confined public place as a response to a heckler then you might as well do it while playing for a team in which that would only be the 5th or 6th most intriguing storyline. Josh Jackson had a recent history of "temperament issues" (if that's how you would describe threatening to hit a woman, but settling for the assault of her mode of transportation when she made use of it's locks) coming out of Kansas, but somehow the Suns are such a dumpster fire that their lottery pick was able to slide under the radar after emptying his invisible clip into the third row on the road. A high profile rookie potentially played into the hands of a topical and polarizing debate about firearms, and it got relegated to the proverbial back page due to the organizational chaos of the franchise that drafted him despite clear and present legal concerns.
Now, I don't think that Josh Jackson letting off faux shots was anything more than a spur of the moment brush with youthful stupidity. However, can you imagine how many takes would be firing in hotter than his unseen heat if everyone wasn't so busy addressing the Suns' dismissal of their head coach, their starting point guard's unhappiness/inevitable trade, and their team's inability to keep the final score wishing 30?
P.S. Are asinine fabrications an organization epidemic in Phoenix? The NBA should double his $35,000 fine for having multiple days to craft an explanation and coming up with nothing better than playing off his 9mm as a censored middle finger...
Considering His Demands And Behavior, I'm Pretty Sure Martavis Bryant Has No Idea How Trade Value Is Calculated
Is it possible that Martavis Bryant smokes himself out of the NFL before he's even able to smoke-signal his way out of Pittsburgh?
Obviously I am being facetious, because someone with such an immense amount of talent will be given the second (more accurately third, fourth, or fifth) chance that he's done everything but deserve. That said, he must be back to puffing on that good-good if he thinks that prematurely burning bridges is the best way to create more avenues out of town. I'm sure the Steelers will be able to work out a deal sooner or later, but having the disgruntled party go full-scorched Earth isn't doing anything to douse the rumors of a flammable reputation.
This might be a tough concept for Martavis Bryant to understand, but when demanding a trade it's probably best to not sabotage your own trade value. When trying to get a better, more suitable job for yourself, it seems rather counterproductive to completely quit on your current one. An NFL locker room isn't remotely comparable to the average workplace, but that doesn't mean that the people in charge of them don't put a premium on players that can be trusted to show up even when they don't particularly feel like it.
Blinding speed and the unknown of puff-puff-passed on potential will likely have more than one team making some character concessions. However - due almost solely to the actions of the player begging for an offer - those hypothetical teams certainly won't be making an offer that the Pittsburgh Steelers can't refuse. Can't believe the guy who is one joint away from an indefinite suspension didn't have the foresight to see the forest through all those trees.
Jonathan Quick Got Hit In The Head And Continued Playing Before Being Taken Out For A Brief Concussion Test And Jumping Back In Net
Look, I'm totally fine criticizing the NHL for their insanely flawed protocol regarding head injuries, so if we are treating this laughably amateurish treatment of Jonathan Quick as our bi-weekly example of the league's incompetence then I can get on board. However, if - and only if - we are going to pretend that the Kings' goaltender's health was put at a very real risk by staying in the game until the spotters upstairs belatedly realized they were missing a golden opportunity to seem as though they were actually looking out for the well being of the players then I'm a little more hesitant.
I'm not exactly a neurologist, but if a glove brushing up against the side of a helmet can concuss a man that gets vulcanized rubber shot at him for a living then that man should already have been forced into another line of work. So yeah, on the surface it seems ludicrous that Jonathan Quick had the entirety of his head examined during one commercial break, but - by my estimation - it only takes about 3 seconds (give or take) to tell a medical professional that you helplessly threw yourself on the ice in hopes of drawing a call. Especially when the person who is doing so is relatively well known for...umm...let's call them his hockey histrionics...
I'm not ignorant enough to think that head trauma only comes in forms that are clear and present to the naked eye, but I am fairly certain it doesn't come in a form that serves as the Ice Capades equivalent of James Harden flailing to sell the most minimal of contact.
Again, if the frustration is that a lightbulb popped up above the head of the NHL's foremost authority on brain injuries when they saw the chance to exploit a former NHL All-Star and use his ever-so-abrupt absence from the game as one of their few, patented, better-late-never, "see, we do care about our players!" moments then feel free in piling on. However, we aren't really acting like letting Jonathan Quick play 5 minutes before waving him to the bench to ask "you good?" following a pretty common collision is the most egregious thing the NHL has ever done, right? If so, our long term memory is failing us faster than those that played in a league that was complicit in hiding actual concussion problems prior to the last 2-3 years.
Steph Curry Lent A Shoulder To The Nephew Of Devin Harris Whose Father Was Tragically Killed In A Car Accident
LBS- Steph Curry spent some time consoling the nephew of Devin Harris prior to Monday’s Golden State Warriors-Dallas Mavericks game.
Harris, a veteran guard for the Mavs, lost his brother last week in a car accident. Harris on Monday made his first appearance at American Airlines Center since his brother died. He was accompanied by his nine-year-old nephew, Brayden, whose father died.
The two visited with some players from both teams. Curry spent some time with the young boy, which was caught on camera.
“I lost my brother tragically and it’s been a tough week,” Harris said to the media via the Dallas Morning News. “The family is taking it pretty hard, as you would expect them to. Probably the toughest thing I’ve had to deal with, dealing with myself, trying to explain it to his kids, my kids – it’s just been tough.
“I came to spend some time with my nephew to try to get his mind off of it.”
Harris has been granted an indefinite leave of absence as he copes with the tragic news.
To be honest, I initially felt uncomfortable watching this. Obviously I felt more comfortable once I gave it a second thought and remembered that everyone with both the internet and at least a passing interest in sports was also watching it, but still. This candid moment - that was exponentially more heart-wrenching than heartwarming (though it was admittedly both) - wasn’t meant to be for public consumption, and that’s why I’m glad that the conclusion of it came from within the privacy of the tunnel.
It has become easy to give Steph Curry shit for shamelessly playing to the camera before going the “Who, me?!” route when questioned on it (See: popping a squat in the middle of the court during the NBA Finals). However, it’s even easier to see why he’s one of the more respected members of a league that he’s constantly disrespecting by way of overly celebrated jump shots. Taking a minute away from working on a creative new way to put the ball in the hoop - during a pregame in which this clip’s consoler usually puts on a show - to offer even a minute amount of compassion to a kid that recently lost his father may just be a small display of selflessness. However, it’s proof positive that Steph Curry is both a great person and keenly aware of how his popularity amongst the next generation of fans gives him a sense of purpose that’s bigger than just basketball. It sucks that we had to see a distraught child emotionally lean on someone who he probably considers a hero to put aside how insufferable said hero can be on the court and focus on all the good he does off of it. I’m starting to think that athletes are better off as nothing more than entertainers, but that’s only because it almost requires a tragedy that makes someone far worse off before we see them as more than that.
247Sports- The Falcons wide out seems to think that the Patriots didn't exactly help the visibility during their 23-7 victory on Sunday night. During the game a giant fog engulfed Gillette Stadium for most of the second half making it almost impossible to watch from the 300 level of the venue.
Conditions got so foggy that NBC couldn't even use their usual sideline cameras because visibility was so poor.
It appeared universal from a players perspective that the fog didn't impact much of the visibility for them on the field, but after the game Jones shared his bizarre thoughts on the matter.
“It didn’t affect me, but it’s crazy though, like, they score and they shoot fireworks off and then it sits high, kind of in the stadium,” Jones said, via CBS Boston. “So it’s kind of hard, like, if you do get behind, like how can you throw deep balls and things like that, because it’s foggy? I mean, it didn’t affect us at all though. They were just the better team tonight.”
Which really begs the question, exactly how potent was the blunt that Paul Simon kept passing to Julio down by the schoolyard?
This is a message brought to by Mr. Jones and me: When you use "it's crazy" as a precursor you might as well just be blunt about it and drop a "weeeeeeird". I suppose you could go with "I'm not making excuses, but...", but if you don't want to be oxymoronic then the excessive use of e's is always a solid alternative. He might desperately argue otherwise, but the Falcons leading wide receiver absolutely lent credence to a conspiracy theory so absurd that you'd think he played the entirety of Sunday Night Football with his head covered in an industrial size roll of Reynolds Wrap as opposed to an NFL-licensed helmet.
Granted, acting like any display of gamesmanship is beyond the New England Patriots is a fool's errand. Still, when you're the predominant playmaker for a Super Bowl runner-up whose touchdown broke a streak of 54 unanswered points by the team that shattered your dreams it might be wise to just silently tip your cap to an insanely hypothetical circumstance.
As someone who has been a 22 year desk jockey working his first full-time gig on the first Monday of football season, I can't tell you the best way to prove you're not hungover when the opposite is clearly true. I can, however, say that implying that your opponent did the equivalent of buying Mother Nature's drunk ass another drink by intentionally invoking the use pyrotechnics as a defensive measure to protect their commanding lead is undoubtedly not the way to hide your mental fragility.
I don't know exactly how foggy it got down there on that field, nor do I know if the visual impairment increased right along with the Patriots lead. I do know that the instinctual allegation from a leader of the team that's less than one year removed from suffering the most crippling loss in NFL history is a far bigger cause for concern than the smoke that resulted from scores at their expense.
Make no mistake, Eric Bledsoe is much better basketball player than he is a liar. Saying he was talking about some hypothetical salon when he vaguely expressed dissatisfaction with his surroundings is almost as astoundingly unbelievable as the idea of an NBA player waiting to get shaped up without being able to talk shop with his barber. I’d imagine that a hoity-toity hair emporium has to rank fairly high on the list of the thankless establishments to visit as a black man, but no professional public figure is dumb enough to think that such a succinctly simple declaration of unhappiness would be taken as anything other than an indictment of an unhealthy workplace. So, as far as laughable fabrications are concerned, Eric Bledsoe’s indirect insistence that gossipy housewives were the inspiration behind a tweet that would have been harmless if viewed separate from his employment by an NBA team that might be able to compete in the D-League is pretty far fetched. Yes, even for a league whose members pride themselves on petty, aggressively passive power plays.
Now, that being said, I can totally relate with Eric Bledsoe here. Some might say that three games isn’t enough time to come to the conclusion that a particular occupational environment lacks any redeeming qualities. I wouldn’t be one of those people, for I pride myself on the quickness with which I strongly dismiss unfamiliar social settings. More importantly, I think you lose the right to tell a player to “give it time” when you shit-can your head coach three games into what is sure to be an abominable season.
To put it simply, the Phoenix Suns stink, and I don’t mean that they have the increasingly common odor of a team that’s tanking. I mean, they actually stink, in a nauseating, proverbial nostril-stinging, “is that the smell of human feces that’s not my own?” sorta way. Of course Eric Bledsoe doesn’t want to be a part of a team that’s already been on the ass end of multiple beatdowns that would make the Washington Generals optimistic about their chances at victory. In fact, I don’t think it’s outside the realm of possibility that he’d rather be amongst dozens of women paying 3x the reasonable amount for a hairstyling than taking the floor after halftime in front of tens of thousands of fans while down by 40.
If the alternative is playing out the entirety of a season with Marquese Chriss as his complementary offensive threat then he might honestly be more content sitting in on your extended family’s most heated political debate. Sitting in traffic after a rough day at the office? Waiting on line as a millennial that craves immediate gratification? Navigating the inherent inconvenience that is traveling? Accompanying a woman shopping? Literally every awkward situation that has been featured in a Southwest commercial? All breaths of fresh air relative to re-re-re-living an athletic nightmare that - ironically enough - compares favorably to being hopelessly stuck in the dessert. There’s worse places to be than on the roster of a professional basketball team, but you can make a legitimate argument that the Phoenix Suns are a professional basketball team by Association only.
As far as reasons that Brian Boyle's return to practice is so encouraging are concerned, the fact that he is now healthy enough to do so is a clearcut first and there is no close second. I'm not sure it's possible to truly take a cancer diagnosis in stride, so to speak, but the newest New Jersey Devil at least tucked his concerns under the covers of his own confidence if he didn't put them to sleep entirely. The way he handled receiving the worst of news gave grounds to believe there was a light at the end of the tunnel, and the quickness with which he dominated his treatment and worked himself back into hockey shape already has him on the verge of the brighter days ahead. It's a losing proposition to make any assumptions about the direction of a debilitating disease that has proven - time and time again - that it's sick mind has no rhyme or reason. However, if there were hypothetically a blueprint that could give someone an edge in the unpredictable fight against cancer then it would belong to Brian Boyle. Round one went to the Devils' center, and here's to hoping that it was by way of knockout.
Now, as it relates to hockey? This is great news for New Jersey. A guy who was likely signed to be a 4th liner shouldn't be expected to have a tangible impact on an offense that's managed to display an unexpected scoring prowess that's had the most blindly optimistic of fans pinching themselves between periods. Luckily for the Devils, Brian Boyle was mostly brought on board for his intangibles anyway. Considering that they have had to overcome some extremely lopsided performances in the dot, they'll certainly benefit from inserting a trusted face-off specialist into the lineup in the near future. But there's no calculable percentage that can represent the veteran savvy that can only stand to cure what has been a young team's laughable lack of discipline. His grit, toughness, and attitude will be a welcomed addition on the ice and off, because - to put it insanely lightly - Boyle is strong. Boyle Strong, indeed.
With the results of the first half of the NFL season have been so insanely unpredictable that they could be what finally convinced a few degenerate gamblers to find a vice that's less detrimental to their mental health (for instance, black tar heroin), I guess I shouldn't complain about the Saints fourth straight victory. The rest of their division is falling faster than the precipitation that turned a Drew Brees-led offense into something that could be used as evidence in Colin Kaepernick's collusion case for the entirety of the first quarter. So yeah, the avoidance of a trap game that could have put the clamps on the long overdue building of confidence they broke ground on the week prior has to be considered a relative success. A relative success that had the vast majority of their fanbase waiting for the trading of field goals to shed a depressing, unflattering light on the selflessness they showed in giving away a free extra point, but a relative success nonetheless.
Going to Lambeau Field and leaving with a victory is always a more difficult task than it seems on the (wet and unforgiving) surface, even if the way in which they did so opened some eyes as to how much work they have to do before competing with an Aaron Rodgers-led Packers team. Tough to tear down a 4-2 effort in what was considered the "hard" part of the schedule, but they'll have to cut down on the mistakes if they want the "easy" part of the schedule to stay that way. It's easier to forgive red zone interceptions when they come in a win, but the Carolina Panthers proved exactly how easy it is to lose games to mediocre teams when your offense is complicit in taking points off your side of the board.
Theoretically, the Saints should roll over the Bears at home next week, but not if they continue the practice of taking dumb, unnecessary penalties in an effort to stop an inexperienced quarterback that was doing a perfectly fine job of stopping himself. Ken Crawley's lazy "ole' bullshit" on Brett Hundley's touchdown scamper was a microcosm of the type of tackling that allowed a backup to remain upright and keep drives alive, and it's an example of the type of self infliction that can wound playoff hopes in the long run.
Now, the fact that the Saints actually have shockingly realistic playoff hopes after getting off to a start that had some of their most loyal supporters anxiously awaiting an unceremonious finish to the Sean Payton administration is credit to how far they've come. However, needing the better part of 3.5 quarters to put some distance between themselves and a team that threw for under 100 yards shows just how much farther they have to go. Continuing to hold teams under 20 points while running them into the ground with a formidable two-headed rushing attack is a good start, but let's hope the finish is a bit more ascetically pleasing from a complimentary football perspective.
Look, the only real story here is that Connor McDavid has a freakish skill set that is unlike any the NHL has ever seen before. The sick hands and unfathomable footwork required to spin in protection of the puck at full speed before throwing a no look feed to a teammate cutting backdoor are the only things that should be focused on in this highlight.
Unfortunately, far too many hockey fans insisted on displaying the suspect knowledge of the game that makes it difficult to sit within a 5 row radius of them in a stadium setting, so I feel obligated to reference the incompetence of the defense instead of just sitting back and appreciating the absurdity of the offense.
Seriously, if your first instinct is to shame Duncan Keith for an attempt that was admittedly less than Norris Trophy-worthy then you need your peripheral vision checked. Not that catching up to the fastest man on two skates and staying in front of him was the best he could have done at keeping the puck out of his net, but if you think that he got taken to school then his defensive partner must have slept right through class. Now, I'm not saying that I too wouldn't find myself mesmerized into a statuesque state if the NHL equivalent of a unicorn were bearing down on me at about a billion miles per hour, but in terms of unforgivable efforts? Brent Seabrook looking like his controller's battery died is first, and - objectively speaking - there is no close second.
Marshawn Lynch Ran On The Field, Gripped Up A Ref, Got Tossed, Watched The Rest Of The Game In The Stands, And Took The Train Home
You remember in 'Invincible' when Vince Papale (as played by Mark Wahlberg) miraculously made an NFL roster as a fan and became not just an Eagle, but a proud representative of the people of Philadelphia? Well, I'm pretty sure that Marshawn Lynch only came out of retirement to eccentrically fill a much more enigmatic version of that same role. It would honestly be a misrepresentation of his position if the Raiders' website still lists him as a 'running back', because - first and foremost - he serves as an ambassador of the city of Oakland. I'm not even sure it would be accurate to describe him as a "man of the people", because - regardless of his extensive resume of running superhuman athletes into the ground - I'm almost certain he considers himself nothing more than one of those people.
Marshawn Lynch probably falls somewhere in the middle of being a great teammate and an awful teammate for sticking up for his quarterback in a fashion that was absolutely guaranteed to get him tossed from an important game against a division rival. However, he's unrivaled as a proud resident of Oaktown. Consider this, a starting running back walked right off the field after gripping up a ref without a moment of hesitation only to be met by the accepting embrace of the fans whose chance to go home happy he had potentially just compromised. His hometown must really relate to his 'IDGAF' attitude, because Marshawn Lynch's decision to let his longtime friend Marcus Peters know that he don't play that shit definitely wasn't beneficial to their favorite team.
At this point, I look at 'Beast Mode' like I look at the main character in 'Office Space', because unabashedly refusing to stick to company protocol seems to be doing wonders for his reputation. It's definitely a sign that doing his job comes secondary to repping his city, but - considering the thickness of the NFL's employee handbook - it's actually refreshing to see someone return the favor in not giving a damn what they think.
Plus, all's well that ends well, am I right?