sports Archive

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Spot the sports blog error: Part 2!

In case you found Monday’s challenge a bit too easy for your large mammalian brain, try this one on for size, courtesy of Boston.com’s front page in this morning Sport’s section (click to enlarge):

Give up? Then riddle me this: how the hell can the Sox win 4-0 if the “Sox offense stays silent”???

Thanks for listening, and keep tuning in to Brutish&Short for all your petty, sports-related typo needs!

FAIR AND BALANCED UPDATE BY TOM: To be fair to the good people at the Globe, we have had our fair share of typos on this site, too. The Great Typo of 2004 comes immediately to mind, but there was also The Incredible Typo of 1998, not to mention The Terrible Typo of Just Yesterday, which we very fortunately caught before anyone could do a screen-grab-point-and-laugh on our asses.

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Play “Spot the Error” on ESPN New York!

Can you spot the error? (originally posted on June 13 at 9:00 am)

(Answer here.)

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To the Big Daddy/Aristotle/Diesel/Shaqtus/Galactus/Cactus: Thanks for the Memories

19 years baby.

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Also, Too

See you in the Stanley Cup, Vancouver.

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Tom Brady Enjoys Waterslides, As Do Little Girls

No comment. WEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!!!

 

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Only Four Coaches Left! (March MADNESS!)

Like a Russian novel, every NCAA tournament has a unique narrative, with subplots and side characters. Not to mention the gradual descent into madness (March Madness!). This year is no exception.

In the humble estimation of this writer, the real story here is the coaches of these four teams — the two upstarts, Butler and VCU, who will tip off in the early game Saturday, and the storied programs of UConn and Kentucky, with nine NCAA titles between them.

Butler — returning to the final four for the second year in a row — are coached by Brad Stevens, who looks like he could play point guard for the Hickory High Hoosiers. But while Stevens appears to be nothing more than the suburban Indiana hoops head he is, he seems to have an unshakeable belief in his system and an even-keeled focus on the job at hand, which caused one sportswriter this week to wonder if maybe Stevens was “Bill Belichick in a suit.” Stevens now ranks as the youngest coach in history to reach back-to-back Final Fours. Wondering who the last person to do it at such a young age was? The legendary Bob Knight. (Coincidentally, Knight won his first title on his second trip to the finals…)  These Bulldogs are led by Matt Howard, who has benefited greatly by a switch in position from 5 to 4, to the tune of a team-leading 16.7 ppg and 7.8 rpg. This is an undersized team that relies mainly on perimeter shooting and free throws, so look for talented point guard Shelvin Mack to set up outside while seizing on mismatches and feeding Howard under the basket.

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Zack Burgess also thinks the Barry Bonds trial is a waste of time. And he’s a black sports reporter.

Last week I offered up a short late-night rant about the absurd excesses of the government’s unceasing efforts to bring Barry Bonds to justice for the incalculable wrongs he has wrought against society. This week, writing for the Root, Zack Burgess agrees with me — though he does so much more eloquently, the jerk:

No one should lie under oath, but this is ridiculous. The prosecution’s star witnesses: a mistress, a former business partner and a boyhood friend who refuses to testify. I’m sure the federal government has issues far more pressing than to spend a few million dollars to imprison Bonds.

[...]

Last year, while visiting a colleague in New Jersey, I drove through neighborhoods of multimillion-dollar homes owned by financial executives who had crashed our economy and scooped up nice bonuses in the bargain. These guys were mowing their lawns and playing catch with their kids. I find that far more offensive than anything Bonds could ever say or do. And as a taxpayer, I would much rather see my money spent punishing their misdeeds. When I look at my wallet, Bonds didn’t make it thinner. These guys did.

The deeper question is, with two wars (at least), an economy in flux and a plethora of domestic issues, why doesn’t the government just walk away and save taxpayers millions? Someone once said to me, “The best sign of maturity is the ability to walk away from the deal.” The damage has been done. Despite his greatness, Bonds’ character is in ruins. It could not have happened to a (not so) nicer guy.

(If you read the article, you’ll see that Mr. Burgess better cause than most to call for both Bonds’ head and his shrunken testicles, so the fact that even he can see the reason in ditching this farce of a trial is strong testimony in favor of its absurdity.)

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Barry Bonds is finally paying for destroying our global economy

In case you missed it, the Barry Bonds perjury trial started earlier today (much earlier, at this point). All I can say is, thank God. Now we can finally bring that bastard to justice for misleadin’ us about how he got all ripped so he could hit balls real good with a stick and crap. Totally worth the $55 million that we’ve spent so far.

So let’s see: that’s one athlete who already went to jail (Marion Jones), one currently on trial (Bonds), and one coming to trial April 5 (Roger Clemens) for rockin’ some ‘roids and then lying about it to a grand jury. Not bad, right? Now how many bankers, brokers, insurance executives, and financial regulators have we put on trial for their role in the global economic meltdown that nearly turned us all Mad Max 4: Beyond Thunder-boned? Uhhhh…errrr…….does Madoff count? He does? Oh good — then one!

America: prioritizing like your drunk uncle Jimbo since 1776.

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Hockey <3

I watch and re-watch the game highlights on TSN and Youtube like it’s 1964 and Halak is John, Paul, George, and Ringo all rolled into one. I talk breathlessly about Carey Price like he’s my high school boyfriend: “He broke my heart so many times even after I kept giving all those second chances. Well not anymore!”

I watch the opening montages of Hockey Night in Canada in a state of rapture (unless the Leafs are playing) and during the playoffs, these montages take on a mythical dimension — I find them embarrassingly life-affirming, even the ones with Nickelback songs.

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