I suppose it was only a matter of time before the clock struck midnight on an undermanned Devils' defense, but for it to happen a little more than a week after making a long anticipated move to reinforce their blue line and just days after potentially their most promising performance of the season? They must have thought Sami Vatanen was going to serve as their Prince Charming, because - outside of three-of-six periods against the Blue Jackets - they've been leaving the puck behind like it's a glass slipper ever since his arrival. I suppose the half-full glass was bound to start evaporating at some point, but I guess I just assumed this team would remain steady handed enough to not let the inevitable leaking of optimism come by way of an incessant spilling of ridiculously unnecessary turnovers. Perhaps that is what has me the most disappointed about the Devils' disastrous weekend. It's not that they took a sizable tumble out of first place in a loaded division they stood no business being a top of, nor is it the fact that they lost to two teams who are - by all accounts - closer to competing than they are. Rather, it's the way they lost to those teams. It's not that they gave up far too many goals, but instead that they simply gave away far too many goals. Out of the ten pucks that ended up in the back of their net between Friday and Saturday, seven can be traced back to the stick of either a negligent, reckless, or lazy New Jersey Devils' player. As a team that need not look further than their season-long shot totals against to understand that they have irreconcilable issues in their own zone, the lack of attention paid in protecting it was simply inexcusable. From Steve Santini being soft on his stick, to Andy Greene making blind passes through the neutral zone, to Travis Zajac failing to make an easy clear during the penalty kill, to Brian Boyle getting pick-pocketed below the circles, to Damon Severson making a half-assed move as the last man back on the power play, to Sami Vatanen looking like a deer in highlights in the face of a forecheck. If the Devils wanted to stop the bleeding then all they really had to do was stop using the weapon that is Artemi Panarin to self-inflict some of these wounds...
And I get it, inconsistency is a hallmark of young teams. Unfortunately, said inconsistency has predominantly come from the older players that have consistency built into their job description as a top priority. Too many of the names above are that of veterans who are being entrusted to lead by example, but they had recently put on a clinic of what not to when playing a distinguished role for a team whose defensive strategy is based on succumbing quantity over quality. Cory Schneider and Keith Kinkaid will take a disproportional amount of blame because their names aren't Martin Brodeur, but they were hung out to dry by a lineup that knows damn well their slim margin for error can't withstand those that are unforced. I don't think anyone expects this team to play perfect hockey, but up until this past weekend they were doing a decent job of finding a happy medium between that and precarious hockey. With a hell of a lot more divisional games on the horizon, they better start searching for it again.
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Whether or not they are deserving of the restraint, I'll stop short of calling Yankee fans frauds for going from "ya know, it's so refreshing to see things done the right way this time around!" to salivating at the idea of adding one of the most expensive bats in baseball in the time it took Derek Jeter to pull the trigger in the direction of his professional reputation. It's human nature to justify the moves your favorite team makes in an effort to win, and it's not exactly difficult to rationalize the insertion of a player who was one hanging curveball away from hitting 60 dingers into a lineup that was already more abusive on long balls than Larry David. Regardless of how A-Rod-esque the corresponding contract happens to be, Yankee fans should be pumped by the roster bolstering that caused the immediate uprising of 'The Evil Empire'. They just shouldn't expect to be taken seriously if they claim that it was the result of nothing more than wholesome team building that is beyond reproach. I'm fine with them embracing the role of the bad guy, but not while also claiming some type of moral superiority that would stop their organization from taking full advantage of a relationship that's damn near familial. Due to Aaron Judge's unfortunate dental "situation", Derek Jeter is basically still the face of the New York Yankees. So don't tell me he is some holier-than-thou human when the transaction that he at least partially facilitated helped the team that he is synonymous with turn heel. As someone whose expertise as an executive is limited to promptly shit canning every long time employee that had a vested interest in the team's success, Derek Jeter hasn't exactly earned the benefit of doubting his continued allegiance to the organization that treated his recent retirement like it was a year long funeral. And listen, I understand that it makes no sense for the Marlins to commit over 250 million to a guy whose star power would go wasted by a franchise whose immediate future is bleak. I get that it's not easy to move a contract that big when the person due a monthly Brinks truck has a no trade clause. I'll even admit that the first chapter of baseball's most recent success stories have basically been tales of yard sales, but - in sticking with that analogy - the Miami Marlins' owner essentially accepted spare parts in exchange for signing his Lamborghini over to his father figure to compete in the pennant race. Credit to the Yankees for pseudo-nepotistically networking their way into the reigning NL MVP, but you can spare me Brian Cashman's candidacy as GM Of The Year when a trade of this manner would get vetoed out of principle in about 97% of fantasy leagues. I'm not ready to dig through my closet, pull out a tin foil cap, and claim that this was all some sort of meticulously planned conspiracy coming to fruition. I am, however, ready to say that Derek Jeter's shit officially stinks - whether Yankees fans want to continue to hold their noses or not.
Well then, that certainly gives quite the spin to the "Marshon Lattimore needs oxygen because he's out of shape after a few weeks away from the field" narrative. Finding out your rookie sensation at cornerback was maybe/maybe not hovered over a garbage can looking like he was spitting out food coloring while trying to put the finishing touches on a super intricate Halloween costume is undoubtedly bad news. However, if you wanted to look on the bright side then it's fairly incredible he was able to recover well enough from an obvious ailment to trade off 73 touchdown-less yards for an interception that put the Saints in field goal range. I would have signed up for that exchange at kickoff, and - despite not having my PhD - I feel fairly confident in saying that even looking like you might be losing blood orally can only take away from your abilities as a professional athlete. Now, Marshon Lattimore would clearly never use the fact that his mouth may or may not have tasted like a fistful of pennies as an excuse, but it's exactly that type of moxie while going mano a mano against one of the physical freaks at the wide receiver position that has me all the more excited for the rematch. Dress light Julio, wouldn't want you to sweat getting blanketed all night. "Every time I give up one catch, I'm mad," Lattimore said. Let's flash alllllllllllll the way back to late Wednesday night....
Annnnnd now to yesterday afternoon...
There's no shortage of insults I can easily lob the way of a State Representative who decided it was necessary to - more or less - tell a random teenager to "grow up" simply because that teenager was rethinking whether he truly wanted to play college football for a team that didn't currently have a coach. That being said, I must first begrudgingly admit one thing about Bill Post. He is, without a doubt, a University of Oregon diehard. You can say he's downright pathetic as a politician whose job requires him to cast aside emotion and prioritize logic in speaking publicly, but don't you dare say he won't get high and mighty when it comes to defending his Ducks to the death. All the way down to excusing his way into sounding somewhat unapologetic in his apology, that is a man whose love for his sports' teams is unconditional. I mean, he shows all the symptoms of an irrational level of investment. Temporary blindness to his inherent bias? Check. The instinctual inability to see that he was being blatantly hypocritical in the moment? Check. Hell, I guarantee Bill Post is the type of subjective supporter that needs at least 24 hours to admit that his team was guilty of committing even one single penalty, and what fanbase doesn't need a few thousand of those? Re-read that DM and tell me it isn't dripping with the type of self loathing that one can only experience after the adrenaline (and/or booze) wears off and all that remains is a moment of clarity in which you realize you were distraught over a game played by people who aren't even old enough to rent a car. You mean to tell me that you haven't been there and done that? Now, I think it's safe to assume that most of us aren't professionally in the public eye nor have we tried to play the vicarious role of father figure to the 18 year old son of a stranger. However, maybe - just maybe - that means we could never dream of being detached enough to reach Bill Post's level of fandom.
If I am being totally honest, that Reggie Miller-esque expression didn't register as an insult to me in the moment. Perhaps it's because I was too wrapped up in the game, or maybe I just thought the Sean Payton had more important things to worry about than reminding an opponent that he was heavily complicit (see below) in the most infamously blown lead in the history of football during the second half of a one score contest against a division rival...
Whatever the case may be, I initially thought it was just part of some sort of audible or something. Looking back on it, that seems like a fairly stupid conclusion considering that he made it a point to remove his headset before engaging in barking that didn't particularly look like it contained too many orders. It could have been in reference to a missed holding call as there were no shortage of officiating blunders, but the presumed target didn't seem to think so when he offered this response...
Now, I could get semantic and say that Devonta Freeman just gave Sean Payton a compliment by matter of factly stating that he "knows nothing about choking", but I'd rather question what the fuck their upbringings have to with what was potentially just harmless, on-field trash talk. I have no doubts that Sean Payton and Devonta Freeman aren't from the same neighborhood, but - unless their high school curriculums had differing definitions for the term 'collapse' - I can't quite put my finger on the contextual relevance here. Probably not going out on too far of a limb in assuming that the latter had to overcome far more problematic circumstances to get where he is than the former, but now that they are both a part of an NFL sideline? All is fair in mocking each other's most laughable failures as a professional, if that is - indeed - what happened. That's why I AINT going to bring the fact that the now deleted (shocker) tweet was about as original and clever as a '28-3' reference. Because Sean Payton's sign language backfired when his sideline outburst put the finishing touches on a Saints' loss, I AINT even going to mention that the extra effort of an offensive lineman saved Devonta Freeman from proving it prophetic when he nearly fumbled away the victory just seconds prior. Hell, I AINT even going to say that the Falcons running back knows more about choking than the Saints head coach, even though he somehow managed to prove just that despite getting the win. I don't know who that gesture was directed towards, but it AINT not telling that Devonta Freeman assumed it was him. Generally speaking, I find the act of excuse making to be worth nothing more than an exaggerated eye roll. Therefore, I'll try to spare as much bias as I can in the reporting of the following absolute fact. An eye-popping amount of injuries, piss poor officiating, and one extremely dumb throw cost the Saints a win against a Falcons team that should be embarrassed by how much help they needed in just barely squeaking out victorious in a game they absolutely needed. First, the injuries. It's as if the loss of their most versatile weapon and one of the league's preeminent matchup nightmares in Alvin Kamara to a concussion wasn't bad enough. If the initial drive was any indication then a rushed game script appeared as though it was going to heavily feature him while easing the burden on the toe that had Mark Ingram's playing status up in the air. Unfortunately, almost every single subsequent drive after that continued to highlight just how stupid Thursday Night Football is as anywhere between 5-35 of New Orleans starters had to be helped off the field throughout the night. Now, the officiating. Admittedly, the Saints didn't make things easier on themselves with how often they got caught clutching and grabbing in the secondary. That said, the Falcons only touchdown drive of the first half was aided by a phantom roughing the passer call that came just as the Saints were getting off the field and, if anything, should have resulted in a flag thrown against the strong gust that appeared to knock over Matt Ryan...
I suppose the illegal formation penalty that took three points off the board as the first half expired was self-inflicted, but it was also the same type of ticky-tack bullshit that had Sean Payton getting called for a fatal unsportsmanlike conduct because the cowardly official decided to put his imprint on the outcome after refusing to listen to an incessant plea for a timeout...
When it comes to playing discipline the Saints did more than their fair share of crapping the carpet, but a frivolously one-sided game of flag throwing made it nearly impossible for them to clean up after themselves. Lastly, a ridiculously unnecessary attempt at a kill shot. With time working in their favor and their defense having spent most of the game either on the field or in the trainer's tent, I have no idea why Drew Brees tried to to force that ball to Josh Hill, of all people. Credit to Deion Jones for making a hell of a play, but it was a hell of play that he shouldn't have been given the opportunity to make considering the circumstances. With the situation offering them the use of literally the entire playbook, they decided to go with "jump ball to the athletically limited blocking tight-end that's had issues with ball security". To call that a head scratcher would be to imply that there is any sort of critical thinking required to identify it as a bad decision. As Drew Brees was driving the length of the field I couldn't help but think how gutsy the entirety of New Orleans' effort was, so I'm not going to completely reverse course on that narrative due to one silly turnover. The fact that the Saints were even in a position to win that game is pretty remarkable seeing as everything appeared to be working in favor of the more desperate team that didn't have to worry about traveling on a short week. Oddly enough, I couldn't be more confident that the Saints are a far superior team to the Falcons after watching the defense turn Matt Ryan into a partially blind, blubbering fool. It's extremely rare for a team to go undefeated in their own division, but I'll settle for 5-1 because there's no way that Atlanta team beats a (presumably) healthier New Orleans team on their own turf. Even if they are used to playing in front of a limited smattering of Falcons fans...
A Saints Fan (Presumably) Had A '28-3' Banner Flown Over Top Of Mercedes-Benz Stadium This Afternoon12/7/2017
Far before this season had even started, all 10,000 variations of the '28-3' punchline had run their course with me. Two extremely depressing games into this season, it became the second most seemingly inevitable and annoyingly repetitive joke of a stat when yet another '7-9' stint started to seem like a foregone conclusion. But now that the Saints are on the verge of clinching a playoff spot - potentially at the expense of their heated division rival (with a little help come Sunday) - after winning 9 of their last 10 in predominantly dominant fashion? Man, I hope the fans take it far beyond the limit of obnoxiousness in reminding an on-the-postseason-ropes Atlanta Falcons team just how well they perform under pressure. Fly it over the stadium. Drape it on a billboard. Slap it on a t-shirt. Scream it through the goddamn streets of city that doesn't give a half of a damn about showing up to watch professional football anyway. Anything that could dump just a little more salt in the wounds of a team that turned a Super Bowl appearance into one of the most embarrassing moments in their franchise's history. Not because it can - in any way whatsoever - be considered topical, original, or even remotely funny humor, but because the pain of their playoff hopes slowly evaporating as they face New Orleans two of the next three weeks should sting as much as possible.
If we are being completely honest, that response is pretty damn harmless in comparison to a majority of the dumb thoughts and opinions that people with relative power feel oddly comfortable making available to the masses by way of the internet. It's admittedly pretty strange to see an older man with a semblance of prestige take aim at an innocent teenager who made the best decision for his future. That said, considering the buffoonery state of politics, I'm not so sure we shouldn't be praising butt hurt Bill Post in showing some restraint by limiting his baseless criticism to a wildly unnecessary "life lesson". Any respectable state representative would have just kept to himself, but oh well. At least this particular one is too heavily invested in the local college football scene to harbor hypocritical views of the way collegiate athletics are run. I mean, if he had something to say about the self confidence a high school senior showed in backing out of a handshake deal then surely he'll have some scathing retort for the head coach whose sudden departure for greener pastures prompted the "psych"-esque pulling of the hand in the first place. He's someone who has been made responsible for aiding in the making of decisions that could effect tens of thousands of people. There's no way Bill Post would be bird-brained enough to take umbrage with a kid exercising what few rights he has during the short amount of time he has them while also offering support to the grown ass adult whose untimely search for more money found said kid in an uncertain situation. Right? RIGHT?!?
LBS- The Bengals were penalized five yards for offsides on Boswell’s first kick attempt with four seconds remaining in the game. During the pay, a Cincinnati player stuck his foot out and made contact with Boswell’s kicking leg.
As far as Boswell is concerned, a player would never jump that far offsides unless he is trying to injure the kicker. “You’re not jumping offsides that bad without trying to run into the kicker,” Boswell said Monday morning, per Chris Adamski of the Pittsburgh Tribune-Review. “It’s not an accident at all. If you look in the NFL for the last two years, multiple teams have done it just to try to … either if it’s running into, blocking the kick, doing something. But Seattle did it last year against the Bills, Ravens did it against us last year — and now Cincinnati.” ----- Well, fair is fair. Kickers might be inherently more susceptible to bullying given their fragile frame in comparison to a vast majority of their peers, but we can probably consider it an addressable issue whenever it's this blatantly obvious. I'm all for doing everything possible to get in the head of a player who is capable of deciding the outcome of a game from a position that's probably about 65% mental, but a little subtlety never hurt anybody. There's jumping the snap in hopes that you can go undetected in blocking a kick, and then there's completely disregarding the presence of a line of scrimmage while getting a running start before wildly swinging your leg as if you're trying to boot the neighborhood stray two yards over. I'd be hard pressed to argue this was anything other than a case of the latter. Still, as fucked up as it is to sacrifice five yards in hopes of causing a game-altering injury, I don't think I'm quite ready to discuss Chris Boswell having to kick a field goal with some numb piggies during a game that featured both temporary paralysis as well as the shortening of 5-10 life spans. Like, in order for me to put a scummy special teams play in the top five most ugly incidents that took place during the officiated street fight that was the Bengals/Steelers game, I think it would have to require limb reattachment. Perhaps if the foot bone was no longer connected to ankle bone and both were visible to the naked eye by way of compound fracture then that play could maybe get it's own topic on television sports talk roundtables, but sore toes? Let's either save those for a less perilous week, or find a way to loosely connect them to irreparable brain damage. Tennessee's New Head Coach, Jeremy Pruitt, Is A Decade Removed From Not Knowing What Asparagus Was12/7/2017
Love it. Absolutely love it. Just the type of move Tennessee needed to make. I don't know if Jeremy Pruitt is head coach material, nor do I know if he has what it takes to out-recruit the schools in his conference that didn't turn themselves into a punchline throughout an embarrassingly long and desperate search that might as well have been plucked straight out of Major League... I do, however, have reason to believe that he's interested in getting back to the basics. I mean, there's not a more "meat and potatoes" kind of guy than one that literally couldn't even identify popular types of produce by name. I'd be willing to bet that Jeremy Pruitt still hasn't tried that god-dumb green to this day, and that bodes well for a program whose biggest problem is that they currently have too much on their plate. A vegetable without starch? Why, that's about as unsatisfying as a defense without a middle linebacker! A colorful dish that hits on all levels of the food pyramid? All flash and no substance, just like one of them fancy, schmancy air-raid offenses! A versatile diet? This is the SEC we are talking about, and I ain't never heard of no team rebuilding from the ground up without sticking to the nuts and bolts of winning in the trenches. Tennessee needs to get back to punching people in the mouth. Somebody order Jeremy Pruitt the thickest of ribeye, because only suckers plant seeds for the future when they can come right in and establish a heart base.
You know what they say, don't drive a man to drink and then get upset when he chooses to hop out of the car. I'm not the type to leave sporting events - particularly those that can be as bipolar as college basketball - early, but surround the venue with enough adult-friendly establishments that serve late and that stance becomes slightly more subject to change. Credit to Bill Self for realizing that his team's performance basically peer pressured fans into grabbing just one more drink. There's not enough college coaches out there publicly acknowledging that the most loyal enthusiasts of their program also harbor a strong dedication to keeping local distilleries in business. I mean, it's nice to have undying support, would you rather your fans turn into boo birds or watch the waning minutes from the nearest brewpub? Sometimes you just need to know when to call a spade a spade and follow your heart to the next vodka club. I suppose Jayhawks fans could have sat through 2-3 more increasingly depressing minutes of game play, but those sorrows weren't about to drowned themselves. Alcoholism - even at it's most collegiate and casual - is a disease, and the #2 ranked team in the nation failed to inject the vaccination. Kansas fansknow the risks of leaving early better than anyone, but - when it's this early in the season - it's tough to argue with the reward of a short line at a bar.
Now THAT is how it's done! You can say that New York sports fans are spoiled far beyond the success (or lack thereof, in every case other than the Yankees) of their teams, but don't you dare tell them they give the city a bad rap as a sports town whenever a skilled player has the gall to take his talents elsewhere... ...No seriously, don't fucking tell them that insinuating a Japanese free agent is a coward on the front page of a publication is a fantastic way to scare off future foreign prospects that might be willing to give the states that are quicker to learn how to spell their last name than slander their character a shot. Let's just keep that one between us, because it's hilarious watching Yankees' fans stew every time an athlete dares to make vulnerable a superiority complex that has been passed on from generation-to-less-accomplished-generation and lived further past it's expiration than mold. Consider it our little secret, because the day New York City turns into an environment that breeds rational expectations that fall anywhere near in line with reality is the day that the cycle of self important, counterproductive douchebaggery wears off and players start choosing to play their for reasons others than an ungodly amount of money. In What's Being Dubbed An "MMA Match", Greg Hardy Beat The Piss Out Of A Fat Guy In A Cage12/6/2017
Finally, a step up in competition! It appears Greg Hardy is still trying to beat the pants off defenseless people with C-cups, but at least it seems safe to presume that this human gelatin mold waddled into the octagon willingly. Some might say that the disgraced professional athlete is doing about as good of a job punching his way up the ladder of mixed martial artists as a blind kid playing Mortal Kombat since he's yet to scrap his way past the greased pig that awaits him at the next stage of opponents. Unfortunately, those people clearly don't understand how far he had to come after kicking off his MMA career by domestically abusing his way out of the NFL (after a short stint of observation by Jerry Jones' parole board). Yeah, it's a little sad that he's yet to take on someone with a fighting chance since going full-time in unmitigated violence, but let's not forget what happened last (first?) time he challenged someone that was prepared to fight back. Wouldn't want to rush a revenge match and have him looking like a helpless victim in there...
Well, there you have it. Unfortunately for LaVar Ball, his increasingly frivolous actions led to reinforcing the accuracy of the slogan once used by the brand he bombastically considers a rival to his own, because the quote above is proof positive that Adidas was absolutely right..."Impossible IS Nothing". Before reading the President of the NCAA's statement on the LiAngelo Ball circus, I thought the idea that someone could steal the role of delusional asshole from LaVar was less likely than Lonzo playing meaningful minutes in the 4th quarter. It appears I once again underestimated the sheer shamelessness of a guy whose multi-million dollar bank account is backed by the handiwork of uber-talented individuals who are required to spend a year doing an unpaid internship as a human promotional tool under the ruse of the title "student-athlete" for an entity that wants everyone to believe it's a non-profit. I mean, to run the billion dollar business that is college athletics while refusing to admit that it's made exponentially more profitable by players that would rather be getting backed down by LeBron's ass than go to class? LaVar Ball's entire personality/persona (sometimes I can't tell which it is) is rooted in an some alternate reality where his flesh and blood are the three kings of the basketball universe, and - in acting like a solid education is the NCAA's priority - Mark Emmert just made him seem down to earth by comparison. One man can at least laugh at himself while loudly admitting that he's unabashed in pushing a product. The other is preaching school while monetizing "amateur" sports. So, you tell me, which man is really doing the most wrong by the children he's in charge of? Honestly, I'm starting to think it was a good idea for the overbearing father by which all overbearing fathers are to be measured to pull his international thief of a son out of school. LiAngelo Ball is still the smallest of ballers stuck under the watchful eye of a disingenuous jackass, but at least now he's under the watchful eye of a disingenuous jackass that will slide him a cut every once and awhile.
“Guys have taken more ownership of their mistakes and it’s starting to look more like us. Obviously, now we’ve got to put together more games, more wins, and guys need to get used to having a little more confidence with the ball in their hands, and get used to playing together. Overall, we won, so fuck it.” - Marc Gasol
--------- After being embroiled in a losing streak that was one defeat away from spanning an entire month and had his relationship with a universally beloved coach that recently became unemployed getting over-examined, I'm actually impressed it took Marc Gasol that long to use words that required a Parental Advisory warning. "We won, so fuck it" isn't exactly the most professional way to respond to a question about rebounding, but - overall - it is the most relatable. As far as I am concerned that answer was the exasperated athlete equivalent of the deepest sigh of relief, because there's no way someone who was as happy to get a win under their belt as Marc Gasol gave one ounce of a shit about detailing how it was attained. All that verbal vomit about cohesion and confidence was probably about as satisfying as a painfully forced dry heave, so I'm glad he finally let his true feelings take the mic before he left it in of an asterisk and an exclamation point. Not every 'fuck' is well-deserved, but - after having both his team and his reputation take it on the chin the last few weeks - dare I say this one was necessary? As someone whose explicitly exhaled after enduring far less than a professional shaming, I think I do. It Took Exactly One Tweet For Brent Musburger To Remind Us That He's A 78 Year Old White Male12/6/2017
Violence! Sex! Brain damage! Skirts! FOOTBALL! Slap that shit on a t-shirt...annnnnd stick in the snowflake-free section of whatever thrift store sells 'Make America Great Again' hats. Truth be told, we really owe Brent Musburger a slow clap. It's not common that the elderly have the self awareness to recognize the imminent demise of their filter before it gets them trouble. He still looks like an aging, out-of-touch dickhead for becoming the spokesperson for violence in sports no more than 24 hours after a player was nearly left paralyzed on the field, but at least he's an aging, out-of-touch dickhead that's no longer responsible for broadcasting his no-holds-barred opinion to the masses. To be quite frank, I am not even using the term "dickhead" as an insult as much as I am a description of the antiquated world views of every white male in their late 70's. This day was sure to come, and we should all be happy that he was able to foresee the defectiveness of his tongue-holster. That unadaptable "deal with it" approach to violence and objectification isn't exactly all that far out of bounds considering the inherent issues of the league in which he's talking about, but to publicly defend them during a time in which society - and to a much lesser extent, the NFL - is reprimanding both on the daily? Well, that would be interesting - to say the least - if it wasn't coming from the pruned fingertips of a guy that has understandably grown more damn tired of censoring himself than the average (cave)man his age. Sidenote: It would be morbidly amusing (Also see: skin-crawling) to hear what Brent had to say about A.J. McCarron's now wife if not under close watch by the FCC.... From Their Worst To First, The Devils Bounced Back In A Big Way With A Win Over The Blue Jackets12/6/2017 Full disclosure, it's entirely in retrospect that I am able to find any sort of positive in the Devils ending up with a sore ass at the hand of a 5-0, buzzer-to-buzzer spanking from a team in the Arizona Coyotes that was thankful for no more than two regulation wins as they used a stuffed bird to eat away their sorrows. I may have said something to the effect of "well, every team is going to have a stinker during an 82 game season" to myself, but it was up to a young team that had previously yet to be embarrassed to get their house in order and Febreze away the smell before they became accustomed to it. Due to a perhaps the Devils most significant win of the season, the night they spent playing so far down to the weakest of competition that they made them look like 80's Oilers by comparison can be looked at as a part of developmental process. I don't know how many people genuinely believe that "every setback is a set-up for a major comeback", but the New Jersey Devils - under the veteran-like leadership of their rookies - proved it's not always just an empty saying used to uplift otherwise doomed spirits. Now, despite helping them leapfrog back to first place in the Metro, the Devils' 4-1 win over the Columbus Blue Jackets was far from division defining. If it weren't for Cory Schneider spending the entire first period defibrillating the body then who knows if they are able to spring back to life in the second. Between a handful of sphincter-clenching stops and the most slump-busteriest of goals from Travis Zajac, they had no shortage of pucks bounce their way during the initial 20. However, the way in which it served as wakeup call in a fairly dominant final 40 was nothing short of a breathe of fresh air. I don't want to say the Devils ran a well-structured, defensive sound team with top notch goaltending out of their own building during the last two periods, but look no further than a 17-5 differential in scoring chances for proof that they ran them up, down, and around it. Stefan Noesen came out of absolutely nowhere to make his presence felt in his promotion to the Top-6. Gibbons, Coleman, and Wood continued to be a day-after-leg-day-esque pain in the ass to everyone they play against. And most importantly, the top line - in minutes limited by the smart killing of stupid penalties, mind you - reminded everyone how expectations have became so inflated by a roster that's being kept afloat by the play of teenagers. Nico Hischier brake-checking Seth Jones five feet backwards before looking off another defender as he wired a tape-to-tape pass to a streaking Taylor Hall wasn't just a show of patience that had me feeling more anxious than some drunken foreplay. It was a sign of the steadily-increasing confidence that has allowed the Devils' best play driver to relinquish control of the wheel to two kids that are basically a year removed from having a learner's permit...
Jesper Bratt putting the finishing touches on Columbus after springing Taylor Hall with a silky saucer wasn't nearly as surprising as it was pretty, and that speaks volumes about he's been able accomplish as a 6th round pick that has already shed doubt onto every scouting department in the NHL...
There are inevitably going to be nights that remind you that this team is currently ahead of schedule, but if they respond to them in a way that reminds you exactly why they are then it will be tough to suppress the potential of the postseason for too much longer. The word resilience is probably overused seeing as they are maturing as a hockey team and not leading the rebuild after a natural disaster, but - considering the exasperating way last season ended - the mentality of the Devils' recently laid foundation is starting to look sturdy enough to withstand even the most tragic of defeats.
ESPN- “I’m trying to get this triple-double,” the New Orleans Saints' Cam Jordan said of his 10 sacks, 13 tackles for loss and somewhere between 6-8 pass defenses, depending on whether he gets proper credit for his latest batted pass in Sunday’s 31-21 victory over the Carolina Panthers.
Nobody else in the NFL has numbers that high in each category. “I’m trying to Euro step my way to a NBA number,” Jordan said. If Jordan isn’t in the conversation for NFL Defensive Player of the Year, then folks aren’t having the right conversation. The 6-foot-4, 287-pounder has been a driving force behind the Saints’ defensive revival this year by doing his usual little bit of everything -- sacks, pressures, run stuffs, tackles for loss and batted passes. He even had his first career interception for a touchdown in Week 6 against the Detroit Lions. But Jordan knows as well as anyone that defensive ends are judged by sacks, first and foremost. And his 10 sacks are only tied for seventh in the NFL right now. “Before I start tooting my own horn -- I’m not gonna do it -- I don’t know a defensive end who’s doing what I’m doing,” Jordan said with a mix of his usual playful humor and some pent-up frustration." --------- You know, it's kind of crazy that - even in the age of advanced analysts - we still depend on a statistic as overly simplistic as sacks to determine a defensive lineman's greatness. I watch Cam Jordan play every week, will likely die before he gets the credit he deserves as a viable candidate for Defensive Player Of The Year, and all it took to shine a brighter light on his dominance was crossing sports and borrowing a multi-layered measurement of performance that the NBA has grown somewhat tired of thanks to the shamelessness of Russell Westbrook. Now granted, double digits is a pretty arbitrary threshold, but reaching it in sacks, tackles for a loss, and potentially passes defensed (not to mention penalties forced) as someone who is usually solely judged on how many times he can mindlessly bully the quarterback to the ground? Any one of those metrics are exponentially more impressive than pining for an extra, uncontested rebound. So, if professional basketball wants to do away with a circumstantial evaluation of play that became a comically heated point of contention during the MVP race then the New Orleans Saints' will gladly take it off their hands. If only to show the rest of the league that their criminally underrated defensive MVP's relentless effort and consistent ability to play with pad level is successful at stacking up stats in far more than one overhyped category. Cam Jordan was obviously just messing around with the NBA analogy, but don't be surprised if/when he does end the season putting up Jason Kidd-esque numbers. He's been that good in each and every area of his game, but you don't have to take my word for it...
All Three Of These Hits Received A One Game Suspension. Can Anyone Tell Me What's Wrong With That?12/5/2017
I say this with all due respect to the NHL's Department of Player Safety that has appeared to strategically avoid setting any sort of precedent that would make their jobs easier. Only, and I mean only, the NFL could manage to botch disciplinary action this badly. What are we, 24 hours removed from a ruling that might as well have been a smack on the snout to the NFL's biggest and dumbest of animal for engaging in the type of breakneck behavior that encapsulates literally every act of excess, unnecessary violence they've been trying to rid the sport of for the last few years? Just when you thought a measly one game suspension for a concussion-causing hit directly to the goddamn brain of a athlete who couldn't have been more defenseless after the play was already well over was a pathetic penalty. Just when you thought Roger Goodell and company couldn't do a crappier job than failing to make an example out of a 265 pound genetic abnormality that acted purely out of frustration in taking a running start only to put the entirety of his superhuman muscle mass behind an arm that was reinforced by a brace that was one battery away from being bionic. They go and do this.....
...and make things about 1,000x worse. Seriously, it's as if they intentionally came over the top with this heavy-handed decision only to make sure the two-ply punishment they assessed yesterday would continue to get negative publicity. Almost like they were excited to poor gasoline on the fire just as it was reaching its peak by giving one of the dirtiest, most under-disciplined plays of all time an immediate and wildly illogical point of comparison. Just took two plays that - while dangerous and finable - are inherently a hazard of the sport and came down on the players responsible for them with an iron fist that reminded everyone of the one that Rob Gronkowski got lightly slapped on after using it in an attempt to Hulk Smash his opponent's insanely susceptible skull through the Earth's core. Great job NFL. No one knows how to spin piss poor public relations in a way that keeps them live and well in the news cycle quite like you. P.S. I know it's probably a result of the NFLPA doing some posturing as opposed to the final say of Rob Gronkowski or the team that will steamroll the Miami Dolphins with or without his services, but appealing a laughable suspension for such disgusting display is a bad, bad look...
Am I Alone In Thinking That The Herm Edwards Hire Might Not Completely Backfire On Arizona State?12/5/2017
I don't want to make it sound like I think Herm Edwards is going to come in off the streets after spending damn near a decade sitting in the studio letting the stink of his last failed attempt at coaching wear off to lead a program that tops out at middle-of-the-Pac12 to glory. After all, the last time he tried to aide in molding the minds of college kids they were a broken pencil tip away from not being able to take notes. That's not exactly a career trajectory that will have him sharing the same (web) page with highly-touted teenagers that are looking to be swept off their feet. Fortunately, the fire of 1,000 Sun Devils would eventually burn out if they were waiting for someone that is capable of turning Tempe into Tuscaloosa to sign on the dotted line as the next head football coach at Arizona State. Assuming that the goal of this hire is to collect a couple more wins by way of translating one man's notoriety into one program's prestige then I'm not so sure it's as awful as people are making it out to be. As long as there isn't some absurd expectation of him to waltz into the homes of 5-Star athletes that know exactly how good they are to use cliche-driven sermons to hypnotize them into signing a letter of intent, why can't Herm Edwards parlay the tools at his disposal into some second-rate talent? As far as I am concerned, he's actually quite millennial-friendly. He's got a recognizable face that routinely appears on a television, his own famous catch phrase, and - most importantly - the enthusiasm to make you hang on every word when blabbering on about absolutely nothing. Most of what he said in that press conference was ridiculously contrived nonsense that featured empty analogies and the loose outline of life lessons that are fitting of a cult leader, but if you didn't plug your ears to keeping your mind from being blown when he said that society needs more huddles then you're simply a shell of a human being. If Herm Edwards talks long enough, he'll give even the most erratic and sporadic of still-developing minds a reason to keep listening. Whether or not he knows X's and O's, his ability to hold attention is an invaluable skill to have when trying to peak the interest of high schoolers that usually need someone to defy certain death in a six second span to become an engaged audience. Arizona State has a little bit of NFL representation and a whole hell of a lot of hot women. Give them a prominent voice that could sell that pitch faster than a used car while preaching the importance of playing to win the game and tell me that the most slightly above average of mediocre recruits won't happily start showing up to fulfill their goal of attending 35 pool parties a semester while finishing a respectable 3rd in the conference. Just have to teach him that you can simultaneously be a Sun Devil while having no affiliation with the anti-christ and they'll be off and running....
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