Postgame Spread
You guys hangin' out? I'll hang out.

Tuesday, January 20, 2009

UFIAardsma Update!    

Meet the newest Seattle Mariner!

I believe he'll be a UFA at the end of the season. Until then, UFIA for everybody!!!

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Wednesday, January 14, 2009

And now for a musical interlude    

If you listen to only one utterly flabbergasting and terrible Eagles fight song this year... make it this one, courtesy of Jodie C. Cohen (h/t Philebrity).

"I am dreaming.. wide awake
just how would it feel?
To be reachin the highest high
knowing it is within us."

The breakdown section at about the 2 minute mark is truly a thing of beauty. Wait..what's the opposite of beauty?

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Los Habitantes Aspiran Comen Los Penes    

[EDIT: Doh. No habla Espanol.]

The Bruins, after going 0-8 against Montreal in the regular season last year, have defeated their tormentors in convincing fashion.

Without Phil Kessel, Milan Lucic, Marco Sturm, or Patrice Bergeron, each of them amongst the Bruins' top scoring forwards, they beat last year's Eastern Conference points leader soundly. For the third time in a row. Tonight's 3-1 win was a perfect hockey game: tense first period, comeback from a deficit in the second period, total dominance in the third, dagger at the end. Perfect, and more thorough a beatdown than the score suggests. The Habs had one legitimate shot to tie up the game, and Tim Thomas snuffed it out.

This season is looking more and more like a cakewalk. 43 games. 68 points. An 11-point lead in the conference, which is unheard of nowadays unless you root for the Wings. Wins against quality opponents like Vancouver, Pittsburgh, Detroit, Montreal and Chicago to their credit. Except for the injuries, it's been nothing but great, great news.

With two games remaining, and a 3-0-1 record against the Habs thus far, they have clinched the season series. A year after not winning a single game against them until the playoffs. This, if anything, is what tells me that they are for real. To not just hold their own, but blast them out of the rink. I'm not entirely convinced they're a favorite, and won't be until I see them beat Alex Ovechkin and the Caps a couple times. But with each win they rack up, in the face of so many injuries, they look more and more like the real thing.

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Tuesday, January 13, 2009

Piling on    

The Knicks Revered Sideshow Of Newsworthy Evil (KRS-ONE) continues with a probably untrue but hoo boy do I hope it happened cause it is fantastic story, starring none other than Eddy Curry, his cock, and a loaded handgun.

Peep this brilliance:
• When Kuchinsky balked at some of these tasks, he claims he was verbally assaulted by Curry, including being called, "fucking Jew," "cracker," "white slave," "white devil" and "grandmaster of the KKK."

And if you think this post is entirely superfluous, a transparent machination simply meant to bump Jeff's emotional and well written homage to Jim Rice (aka Steve Balboni with a softer career arc), then, well, congratulations.

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Our Long Regional Nightmare Is Over    


I'm not entirely sure Jim Rice got into the Hall of Fame for the right reasons. His statistical argument is weak, as he's one of those guys who looks less impressive now that we monitor walks and OBP so closely. I sure don't think he got 23 people to change their minds strictly on merit, not when old farts can use their ballots to blow off Rickey Henderson as a personal fuck-you. I can assure you that stat nerds are not happy about this, especially when adding in Bert Blyleven's continued absence.

But regardless, Jim Rice deserves to be there. I really don't care how he did it. I don't want to know how they make hot dogs. I just want to eat them. The outcome today was the right one.

I only have vague recollections of Jim Ed, three of which I can share:

1. My earliest baseball memory is the first game I ever went to, sometime in 1984 before I really cared about baseball. We sat along the first base line, and I mostly just played with my friend. But the only strong memory I have left is that when it was time to go, sometime around the 6th inning, my friend's dad said we should "wait for Jim Rice to get a hit." I couldn't tell you if he did. I think he did. But I can't say I was very concerned about it. I was pooped.

2. The next time I went to Fenway, I remembered every detail. I'd spent the summer obsessed with baseball cards and the Red Sox. I eventually convinced my mom to take me to the box office so we could pick up some tickets. I can still see the gigantic season schedule that hung above the ticket windows. I was so excited when game day came along... September 7, 1986. Bruce Hurst shut out Minnesota, 9-0. My dad and I sat all the way out in right field, near Pesky's Pole. Bill Buckner hit a home run into our section, a few rows away from us, which blew my little mind. I remember two different putouts at home plate in the same inning, one coming from Wade Boggs at third, the other coming from none other than Jim Rice.

But the highlight of the game, as Baseball Reference's WPA-o-Meter corroborates, was Jim Rice's grand slam into the bullpen. It was the first home run I ever saw. I can still see it in the air, everyone around me standing up to will the ball outwards, the ball flying swiftly into the benches, Fenway rising up. It was a lesson. You could watch a million games, and you'd never understand what it was like to be there. 1986 ended badly, but Jim Ed was in many ways my official introduction to baseball.

3. The infamous incident a couple weeks later when a typical jackass Yankee fan grabbed Rice's hat and tried to shove it down his own pants as Jim Ed chased after him. I remember watching TV38 and the cameras watching Jim, staring this douchebag down until he surrendered the hat. Lots of other folks jumped in, including noted roidbag Roger Clemens. Jim Ed jumping into the stands that day sets the standard for running-into-the-stands behavior. Do it for a good reason, and don't punch nobody. (Future entrants would not follow these ground rules.)

By the time I began paying oh-so-close attention to the game, Jim was washed up. Years' worth of back problems came home to roost. But he was the face of the Boston Red Sox when I became a baseball fan, and still one of the looming figures in the American League. Jim Rice, for me, is my first. He still stands as the ultimate example of right-handed power. And rightly so.

Congratulations, Jim Ed. And make sure your acceptance speech ends with "suck it, Neyer."

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Thursday, January 08, 2009

James on the BCS    

I'm not much of a college football fan, but I am a fan of statistical analysis, and of Bill James. His piece today on sending a big fat shitburger to the BCS is pretty great.

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Tuesday, January 06, 2009

Tampa to Philly: I drink your milkshake!    

I obviously can't speak intelligibly about the Phillies replacing my hero with a suckier, older, more expensive, and less fun version, so instead I'll wrap up my offseason haterade on the matter by simply linking here, which pretty well sums up why they are dumb as a fucking post.

Of course, I'm not supposed to hate on them, having just won the WS and all, but fuck that. This entire matter has been abominably stupid.

Bravo, Rays. Boo Phillies. Boooooo!!!!

PS- Between Price and Burrell, the Rays now employ BOTH of my sports crushes. This is a problem. Help me Austin Jackson, you're our only hope.

Update: I forgot the obligatory link to the brilliance.

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