Hockey Fun

No talk, just look.

Springtime for Hitler and Major League Baseball!

"People ask me what I do in winter when there’s no baseball. I’ll tell you what I do. I stare out the window and wait for spring." – Rogers Hornsby

The wait is over. Spring Training games have begun. In years past, I’ve used the “Pitchers and catchers report” date as the official start of spring (roughly the day after St. Valentine’s, if you’re wondering). This year, I’ve realized that the last two weeks of February hold only bad news for fans – your ace pitcher shows up fat, your stud closer needs surgery, your captain gets caught with an asshole full of HGH.

This year, I’ve realized that a big part of the joy of baseball lies in perusing box scores. And they ain’t no box scores without no games.

Today, there are games. Which means, there are box scores. Which means, baseball is back. Hell, as I type this, the Pittsburgh Pirates are up 4-0 in the 5th. I predict great things from the Bucs this year! What’s that? They’re playing a team called Manatee Community College? Even better! I predict an early rise, followed by a swift and horrific collapse!

Rejoice in the bizarre and wonderful world of spring training box scores! We got sunshine, green grass, prospects... everything a kid could want.

All Hail Pence

I have a new favorite ballplayer.
Hunter Pence, stud CF for Houston.
Why, you ask?

If you've ever seen the door that leads to my roofdeck, you already know the answer.

A couple important notes:
I was not naked. Likelihood that Pence was naked: 99%.
His door was glass. Mine was screen. Advantage: me.

Bless you, Hunter, for making me look less stupid by comparison.

h/t.

Offseason Strategy: Yankees: Skiing Edition

Guess who likes twinks?

"Meanwhile, Hughes has his locker moved. It was Mike Mussina’s idea. He wanted Hughes on one side and Ian Kennedy on the other so he talk to the kids all spring."

Reference here.

Duke gets all the calls?

So I admit, I didn't see a single minute of last night's Wake upset over Duke.
But I did notice something the box score -
ALL FIVE DUKE STARTERS FOULED OUT.

WTF?

That is seriously hard to do, and smells about as fishy as Jeff's fingers on a friday night.

The Dunk Contest

If you did anything worthwhile with yourself last night instead of watching the dunk contest, you lose. Thoughts:

Birthday Cake
Dwight Howard beat him fair and square on the acts-of-derring-do front, but come on. I couldn't believe my friggin eyes when I saw that GG blew it out.

It's this year's Sticker Dunk. It's the dunk I'm going to remember from this year, just like everyone remembers the Sticker Dunk. Both dunks were (at the time) the sickest shit ever, but not enough to result in victory. Neither one was flashy in and of itself, but the creativity alone merited an unreceived 50.

When they showed the slow-motion replay of GG pursing his lips and blowing the candle out, I jumped up in the air, screamed, and flung my pita bread at the screen. Hard. And then when I'd picked up the pita and returned to the couch, they showed it again... and I threw it again.

Sickest shit I've ever seen. (Wait'll you see him hit!)

Gerald Green
Green was docked points because Howard was so off-the-charts amazing, not because his work was subpar.

Look at how successfully he aped Vince Carter and Jason Richardson.

Look at the shoe-less dunk. I'm with Dr. J: that dunk deserves a lot more credit than it was given.

It's amazing how much this year's contest mirrored last year's, even beyond the Birthday Cake/Sticker Dunk thing. Last year, Howard stole the show, but GG put on such a pitch-perfect performance that you couldn't take it away from him. This year, the exact opposite. They're not even, because Howard made out better this year than Green made out last year. But still, it's karmic retribution. (And a not-so-subtle message to Green that his high-wire act will only take him so far.)

Dwight Howard
I may love GG, and I may wish he'd gotten more respect for having brought it at what, in any other year, would have been a championship-worthy level (doing the ONE thing he does well)... but this was the most mesmerizing dunk performance I can remember.

It all comes down to showmanship and enthusiasm. Howard was oozing with joy and love all night, whereas Green was doing his thing, taking it serious and being kinda surly about the whole thing. If Green were as charismatic as Howard, this would have gone down as a Nique-vs-MJ-caliber throwdown. (He also would have scored a 50 on the Birthday Cake.) But you couldn't hold Howard back last night.

I wouldn't be the wet blanket that I am without mentioning that the Superman dunk was botched on a couple levels. (He stopped himself before dunking!!!) And the Nerf dunk absolutely should have had the little hoop set at 12 feet, in protest of the league's refusal to jack the hoop up for him, and additionally should have had him dunking a little ball at 12 feet while also dunking the real thing lefty.

But look at the ridiculous lengths to which I have to go to nit-pick Howard. I mean, seriously, think about the ridiculous shit I just demanded of him. That's how high the bar has been raised.

Off the hook. Maybe not as uniformly sick as has been remembered... but definitely off the hook.

Rashad McCants
I love that the TNT guys were ragging on the fact that McCants, a notorious me-first offensive black hole, was brought along to be GG's passer. It's so true. McCants might be his buddy, but why would he not bring Sebastian Telfair? Better passing makes each of the non-Cake dunks that much better. That GG chose to have his buddy do the passing, instead of someone who's good at passing, says all sorts of things about GG's basketball IQ.

It also increased the subtextual fuck-you message they received from Howard and the powers that be. The two sour, pouty, selfish losers did what they do best: they lost. Howard, the franchise player on a Finals contender, won without question. Nuff said.

One Quick Word About The 3-Point Contest
And that word is... titty.



Thank you, Reggie Miller. Thank you to TNT for allowing them to draw the ensuing conversation out to its conclusion. And a HUGE thank you to Sir Charles for dragging "man-boobs" into the discussion.

Someone blows his nose and you want to keep it?!

Oh, that's just nasty.

The Asshole Hall of Fame

Welcome, Coach Bobby Knight, to the inaugural class of the Asshole Hall Of Fame.

So, who else belongs? Simmons proposed a while ago to redesign the MLB hall of fame into tiers, so that one could recognize that there's a difference between players like, say, Jim Rice and Willie Mays. I'll combine his design with Dante's concept of hell to my hall. A hall for the rest of us. Those of us who value shit talking and haterade more than quality play or character.

Tier 1 - The Foyer of Insufferable Pricks
Much like the outer rim of hell, this vestibule is reserved for borderline candidates. These are the folks who either weren't quite horrible enough human beings, or not good enough athletes. You see, you gotta be both good at your job and evil at life to merit true enshrinement in Dis. Worthy candidates for Tier 1 include John Rocker, Mercury Morris, and Paul O'Neill.

Tier 2 - The Shut the Fuck Up Great Room
The largest section of the Hall, in the STFUGR can be found all those people who make everyone in the room stupider each time they open their fat gobs. While broadcasters can be found here, they have to have done something especially unforgivable to warrant induction. Hence, Jimmy the Greek has a spot, but not Joe Buck. Other candidates for Tier 2 include Joe Morgan, John Madden, Terrell Owens, and Bobby Fischer.

Tier 3 - The I Am Not A Role Model Elite
This tier is reserved for figures who not only dominated the game in their time, but transcend sports, providing negative role models that any parent can be horrified to see their son adopt as their newest hero. Candidates include Ty Cobb, Knight, Dale Ernhardt, Isiah Thomas, and Charles Barkley if we ever find out he keeps a thai slaver in his fab 5.

Tier 4 - The Mouth of the Beast
Reserved for the creme de la creme, those individuals whose crimes against humanity are such an abomination as to call into question the judgement of the divine power that spawned athletic competition in the first place. These are the guys who make one think, "Man, if (that guy) is the best we've got, this sport is totally fucked". This one is way harder to put a finger on though. Possible candidates include OJ Simpson, Barry Bonds, and Osi Umenyiora

So that's it. Thoughts? Additional Tier suggestions? Other nominees?
It's a long way until March Madness, and there sure as shit ain't anything else remotely interesting going on.