sports Archive

2

Debased-ball

Everything else being equal, if I told you that the Yankees, Red Sox, and Mets were all involved in series sweeps this weekend and gave you seven guesses out of eight possible combinations as to which teams did what, there’s a good chance that you still wouldn’t choose the outcome that saw the Mets win their opening series and the Sox and Yanks lose theirs in consistently horrendous ways.

History, apparently, has gotten into the moonshine.

(Pretty funny headline from Boston Dirt Dogs this morning, too:

0

Super(stition) Bowl

Rationally, of course, you know that there is nothing that you, as fan watching at home, can do to affect the outcome of a game. That it doesn’t matter, for example, that you wore your Red Sox hoodie over your Patriots hawaiian shirt for the first time this entire playoffs, even though you’d previously only worn said shirt with your Patriots “Give Blood” t-shirt (a freebie from the blood drive at work three years ago), your Patriots socks and Patriots boxers (neither of which you’d washed this post-season, but which totally isn’t gross because you really only wore them during the games themselves, so that’s like, what, eight hours max? so get over yourselves), and the faux Patriots bling you bought for $10 (plus shipping) on eBay back in college. And you know that it wouldn’t have made a difference if you’d forced the cat to suffer a little longer in his undersized Patriots pet jersey — supposedly made for a “medium dog,” but somehow hilariously tight on your wife’s overweight Maine Coon — especially since you’d promised she could take it off of him after the Pats’ first offensive series, which ended after one play on a MOTHERFUCKINGSAFETYHOLYSHITAREYOUMOTHERFUCKINGKIDDINGMEBRADY!?!!11? And the fact that you sat down during halftime after forgetting about your promise to stand the entire game, because halftime doesn’t count as the game game, right? and your legs were cramping a little, so who cares if you take a load off for a few minutes while Madonna whores it up with a bunch of parkour dudes? besides which, you were feeling a little weak because all you’d had for dinner was appetizers because there was no way you were gonna be able to eat any of the three-bean turkey chili bubbling away on the stove — not with the football-sized knot in your stomach — but the point being, you understand intellectually that there was no cosmic disturbance resulting from your moment of weakness, that four minutes on your great-grandfather’s naugahyde easy chair had nothing to do with the eventual outcome. And whether you placed your autographed Patriots cheerleaders banner on top of or in front of your Patriots cooler was completely irrelevant, as was the exact angle and orientation of your Patriots Beanie Baby with comically large Patriots tie (which is only comically large on the small stuffed animal but is, in truth, normal-sized on the human being for whom it was intended) and the old-fashioned faux-leather Patriots helmet with the original Pat Patriot logo, which maybe you should have been wearing, but which you also wore four years ago during the last Superbowl That Shall Remain Nameless and look how that turned out. And you comprehend that the cardboard Patriots coasters on your coffee table would have been equally useless even if you’d kept your frosty-mugged grape juice on there as well instead of keeping it on the other coffee table because the first one was crowded.

You know, deep down and not so deep down, that none of these actions and baubles, taken either singularly or in combination, has ever made a difference, will ever make a difference, could ever make a difference. And still you think…fuck…if only I hadn’t laid out my Patriots pajama bottoms on the bed before the game began. YOU ARROGANT ASSHOLE!!! IT’S ALL YOUR FAULT!@!!!!!!!!!!3234!3245890&$*)%&(*!

***

…pitchers and catchers report in two weeks…

0

WTFutbol?

I started trying to write even a modestly thoughtful piece about how it’s possible for more than 70 people to kill each other over the outcome of a soccer game, but it just wasn’t happening. I mean, what the hell is there to say? Soccer is, quite literally, the simplest sport in the world. All you need to play it is a moderately spherical object and a moderately flat surface and badda bing, you’re good to go. So…sorry. This post has been entirely useless to you — unless you didn’t hear about the news in the first place and now I’ve only depressed you about the state of the world even further, in which case, my bad.

2

Tom Brady’s Gif to You

As my wife said, he just went dolphin:

See you in Indy, Cindy! (Who? Shut-up. That’s who.)

0

Sports quote of the week (East Coast bias)

Every once in a while, I become aware that at some future date a quarterback other than Tom Brady will take snaps for the Patriots. I then lie down and take a nap.

~Boston Globe columnist, Bob Ryan, from his annual “State of the Teams” review on January 1, 2011.

2

God’s quads

I’ve touched on religiosity in sports in the past (and am clearly enamored enough with Carlin’s take on Christian athletes to embed the clip twice without remembering I’d already done so), so why not go there a third time, right? This week’s Yahweh blah-weh comes, surprisingly, not from the Denver Broncos and their Mile-High Messiah (aka, the 1.6 Kilometer-high King of Kings), but from my very own (as in, I have nothing to do with them in any material sense whatsoever) New England Patriots.

Via the Boston Globe:

Patriots defensive end Andre Carter will be placed on injured reserve, ending his season, a league source confirmed last night.

Carter injured his left quadriceps on the final play of the first quarter of Sunday’s 41-23 win in Denver and will require surgery.

The 11-year veteran took to Twitter last night, tweeting, “God is great. Thank you for showing me and my family support this season. It’s been a blast. Wouldn’t change it for anything.’’

Really, Andre? You wouldn’t change it for anything? You wouldn’t, say, change it if God offered to heal your goddamn leg?

I hope you and Adrian Gonzalez have a gay old time this offseason reminiscing about not the playoffs. (Not like that though: we already know God’s take on The Gays.)

0

Sportz iz stupidz

Here’s a ridiculous idea: let’s give a 32-year-old athlete more than $200 million for a ten year contract.

“But Albert Pujols the best player in baseball!” you whine.

Doesn’t matter. If he hasn’t peaked already, he’s nearly guaranteed to within the next few years, which means you’d be paying him stud money at $20 mil a year for the worst years of his career for the majority of his contract, stealing money from future prospects in the long term in order to capitalize on his admittedly unsurpassed skills in the short term. Idiotic. Check the actuarial tables: 99% of athletes — even namby-pamby baseball players — start to decline after their mid-30s. (Pulled that out of my ass, but it’s probably close. I’ll look it up when work stops kicking said ass.)

Plus, this should have the Marlins scared shitless:

Pujols, who turns 32 in January, has led the Cardinals to two World Series titles, including this season. He has a career batting average of .328 with 445 home run and a 1.037 OPS. He was below his career norms last season but still batted .299 with 37 home runs and 99 RBI.

I’ll remphasize: Pujols wasn’t just below his career norms last season; he was waaaay below.

  • .299 average in 2011 vs .328. career
  • 99 ribbies vs. 137
  • 37 taters vs. 42
  • 105 runs vs. 123
  • .366 OBP vs. .420

Could he bounce back? Absolutely, and he probably will, but if you think he’s going to play at his career average over the next decade, you’re not paying attention to how life works.

5

Because when I think “football,” I think “Madonna”!

I’m genuinely curious about who makes these decisions. Is it a clueless cadre of rich white guys with absolutely no insight into current pop culture? A premeditatedly diverse group of third-party advisers and marketeers with their supposed finger on the musical pulse of the nation? A dartboard and a monkey?

Because any or all of those seem like possible candidates for having chosen many of the Superbowl acts in my viewing lifetime.

Case in pointless: According to the AP,

The Material Girl will be taking the stage on football’s biggest night.

Madonna, who has sold more than 300 million records, will perform at halftime of the Super Bowl in Indianapolis. The NFL and NBC announced Sunday during the Detroit-New Orleans game that the Grammy Award-winning singer will highlight the show at Lucas Oil Stadium on Feb. 5.

Look, I realize that — regardless of your personal opinion of her — Madonna is a peerless cultural icon. And I readily admit to enjoying much of her music (though, to be honest, I can’t actually name anything she’s done since “Beautiful Stranger” from Austin Powers). But Madonna is emphatically not a Superbowl halftime act. For that matter, neither are half the acts that have appeared over the years? Why? Because the Superbowl is FOOTBALL!!!11!, and FOOTBALL!!!11! is not pop — it’s rock and/or roll. Arena Rock, Grunge Rock, Southern Rock, Brit Rock — it doesn’t matter what kind of rock, as long as it’s rock.

To borrow from the immortal George Carlin:

Football is played on a GRIDIRON, in a STADIUM…

Football has hitting, clipping, spearing, piling on, personal fouls, late hitting, and unnecessary roughness…

Football is played in any kind of weather: Rain, snow, sleet, hail, fog…can’t see the game, don’t know if there is a game going on; mud on the field…can’t read the uniforms, can’t read the yard markers, the struggle will continue!

And to add my own: it’s the only sport where the interactive object upon which the sport is contingent is also referred to as “the rock” (e.g.).

Now peep this list of Superbowl halftime acts from just the last decade:

  • 2001: Aerosmith, ’N Sync, Britney Spears, Mary J. Blige, Nelly
  • 2002: U2
  • 2003: Shania Twain, No Doubt, Sting
  • 2004: Janet Jackson, P. Diddy, Nelly [editor’s note: twice in four years? WTF?), Kid Rock, Justin Timberlake
  • 2005: Paul McCartney
  • 2006: The Rolling Stones
  • 2007: Prince, Florida A&M UniversityMarching 100 Band
  • 2008: Tom Petty & the Heartbreakers
  • 2009: Bruce Springsteenand the E Street Band
  • 2010: The Who
  • 2011: The Black Eyed Peas, Usher, Slash
  • 2012: Madonna, Cirque du Soleil

See those underlined names? Those are the only performers who even remotely belong on stage at a Superbowl halftime show — and that’s a generous assessment, including, as it does, No Doubt and Tom Petty.

The biggest annual sporting and television event in the nation deserves better. Not necessarily bigger, mind you — it’d be tough to get a “bigger” name than Madonna — but I would gladly watch a lesser-known rock band like a Jet or…shit, I don’t know, even Nickelback over a withering pop star like stringy Ciccone there. Where are the Chili Peppers? Where are the goddamn Foo Fighters? Where are my co-editors to name a rock band that people actually listen to these days since I know jack about music?

UPDATE BY TOM: Sting deserves an underline here, as The Police are most definitely rock and/or roll.

As you were.

UPDATE BY TREVOR: Have you heard a Sting album in the last 15 years? The dude hasn’t rocked since The Police!

0

Random Deep Thought

The commentators for NFL games are almost as hard to listen to as Republican presidential candidates.

0

When you gotta go, you gotta– BLUE 42, HUT!

Because western Connecticut is apparently not a part of New England and thus could give a shit about broadcasting Pats games from start to finish, with eight or so minutes to go in yesterday’s romp over the Eagles, CBS decided to cut to a “more competitive” matchup featuring the Tebroncos vs. the Chargers.

Seeing that Denver was down by a field goal with just minutes to play in regulation, I watched with reluctant fascination as Tebow did what Tebow does to send the game into overtime, where he ultimate won it after two pathetic drives by both teams to start the 5th.

But that was the pre-ordained headline. The real story is what happened with 1:30 left to play in the 4th, when Chargers kicker Nick Novak — having already missed one field goal that afternoon while also making a 53-yarder — began to prepare for the potential game-winning kick (another 53-yarder, coincidentally) by…well, judge for yourself:

Stumped? Well, I’ll give you a clue: he’s not doing “the Tebow” in that shot.

FOX confirms: when Gatorade starts gushing and there’s no time to hit the locker room,

“We just take a knee and teammates hold up towels,” Novak said. “It’s kind of embarrassing, but oh well.”

To be fair, if I was expected to make two 50-plus-yard field goals in a game, I’d have a hard time holding it in, too.

(h/t)

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