April 2008 Archives
THIS AND THAT
I'm wary of writing about the Canadiens today, since every time I do it seems like the batty-signal goes out we get a bunch of bent out of shape Habs fans stopping by the blog to remind us that Les Glorieux are beyond criticism by supporters of teams with so few Cups, such as the Leafs. Usually we don't mind the extra traffic, but now that the Habs fans have embraced ultra-violence, it only makes sense to be a little afraid.
However, against my better judgment, I do have to wonder what the reaction would have been in the press had the tables been turned on Saturday and our little hoodrat friend Steve Downie had sucker-punched a Kostytin after scoring a goal. This has had little play in the papers, and only Hockey Night in Canada seems to have paid much attention to the incident. Still, I doubt P.J. Stock would have made apologies for Downie like he did for Tom Kostopolous on Sunday's HNIC broadcast. In case you missed it, Stock felt that Kostopolous did the right thing because Timonen was laughing after the goal. That'll teach that jerk a lesson...for...uh...being happy that his team just scored?
HEAR AND THERE
Steve Simmons informs us today that it isn't only the Toronto press that thinks JP Ricciardi should be packing his bags. To prove that someone has got his back, Steve quotes Bruce Jenkins of the San Francisco Chronicle, who refers to the Jays as a "team run by the highly unimpressive J.P. Ricciardi and hot-headed manager John Gibbons, both of whom should be out of a job at any time." If you aren't familiar with Bruce Jenkins, have a visit here; Fire Joe Morgan has covered his work extensively, going as far as to wonder if Jenkins is the dumbest man of the last fifty years. Birds of a feather...
SCENE AND HEARD
There were so many questions regarding the departure of Frank Thomas this past week that Richard Griffin had to divide up the questions and give us two mailbags. Till already commented on Griffin's use of the ripe old term clogging the basebaths (or, as I prefer, getting stuck between stations), but for me the highlight of the Big Hurt bonus-bag was the inevitable question about whether or not the Jays should sign the greatest baseball player of all time. Griffin's response starts out strong, identifying a number of reasons why the Jays should steer clear of Barry Bonds:
Just what we need, a huge barcalounger in the clubhouse in front of Barry's locker, his own Plasma HD-TV, personal lackeys running around the clubhouse and IRS and DEA agents behind every pillar. Can he get a work permit for Canada if he is being investigated by a grand jury.
Then everything falls apart:
Just what the Jays need. A guy that walks every time there are runners in scoring position, leaving it up to the other guys that have been failing with runners in scoring position. The Jays will not do that. They want to keep the payroll under $100 million. Besides, the Giants averaged 73 wins per year the last three seasons with a younger Bonds in their lineup.
Damn those walks. And good point about the Giants sucking balls with Barry in the line-up. I mean, look at Bonds' pitching record over those three years; Not a win, hold or save to be counted (despite a very impressive 0.00 ERA). And those front office decisions that Barry made were terrible. Omar Vizquel? What was Barry thinking signing a 38 year-old shortstop whose best years and decline years were a distant memory. And that contract Bonds gave to Barry Zito? That is going to drive Giants fans to drink for years to come.
AND ANOTHER THING
The New York Rangers seem to have taken a page out of the Bush Administration's playbook by declaring a falsehood to be fact (Irag has weapons of mass destruction / Sidney Crosby is a cheater) and repeating the lie ad nauseum until it becomes accepted as truth.
Last Thursday, Rangers coach Tom Renney insinuated that Crosby has a tendency to embellish and said he would bring it up with officials before the series started. Crosby, clearly coloured unimpressed by Renney's accusation, responded by saying something along the lines of I know you are, but what am I: "If I go down, it's because I've been forced down. I'll do whatever I can to stay on my feet. I think he (Renney) should be the one worried about diving."
So, after a bizarre penalty call near the end of game one resulted in the Penguins scoring the game winner, the Rangers stuck closely to their talking points. Tom Renney gave a snarky "Did you see it?" when questioned, and Martin Straka told reporters that Crosby dove. Of course, we can't really have a discussion about the rules in the new NHL unless we hear from the guy who created them: "I think it's a weak call at that time of the game," Rangers forward Brendan Shanahan said, self-importantly. "I think Sidney embellished."
Now, it can't be a full-on Bush analogy here unless we have someone to play the role of Cheney...someone who can stand up, and seemingly without a clue that their previous words are on the record, completely contradict everything they said earlier. Do their best impression of a Dick and, you know, lie. Like Shanny did the next day:
I'm wary of writing about the Canadiens today, since every time I do it seems like the batty-signal goes out we get a bunch of bent out of shape Habs fans stopping by the blog to remind us that Les Glorieux are beyond criticism by supporters of teams with so few Cups, such as the Leafs. Usually we don't mind the extra traffic, but now that the Habs fans have embraced ultra-violence, it only makes sense to be a little afraid.
However, against my better judgment, I do have to wonder what the reaction would have been in the press had the tables been turned on Saturday and our little hoodrat friend Steve Downie had sucker-punched a Kostytin after scoring a goal. This has had little play in the papers, and only Hockey Night in Canada seems to have paid much attention to the incident. Still, I doubt P.J. Stock would have made apologies for Downie like he did for Tom Kostopolous on Sunday's HNIC broadcast. In case you missed it, Stock felt that Kostopolous did the right thing because Timonen was laughing after the goal. That'll teach that jerk a lesson...for...uh...being happy that his team just scored?
HEAR AND THERE
Steve Simmons informs us today that it isn't only the Toronto press that thinks JP Ricciardi should be packing his bags. To prove that someone has got his back, Steve quotes Bruce Jenkins of the San Francisco Chronicle, who refers to the Jays as a "team run by the highly unimpressive J.P. Ricciardi and hot-headed manager John Gibbons, both of whom should be out of a job at any time." If you aren't familiar with Bruce Jenkins, have a visit here; Fire Joe Morgan has covered his work extensively, going as far as to wonder if Jenkins is the dumbest man of the last fifty years. Birds of a feather...
SCENE AND HEARD
There were so many questions regarding the departure of Frank Thomas this past week that Richard Griffin had to divide up the questions and give us two mailbags. Till already commented on Griffin's use of the ripe old term clogging the basebaths (or, as I prefer, getting stuck between stations), but for me the highlight of the Big Hurt bonus-bag was the inevitable question about whether or not the Jays should sign the greatest baseball player of all time. Griffin's response starts out strong, identifying a number of reasons why the Jays should steer clear of Barry Bonds:
Just what we need, a huge barcalounger in the clubhouse in front of Barry's locker, his own Plasma HD-TV, personal lackeys running around the clubhouse and IRS and DEA agents behind every pillar. Can he get a work permit for Canada if he is being investigated by a grand jury.
Then everything falls apart:
Just what the Jays need. A guy that walks every time there are runners in scoring position, leaving it up to the other guys that have been failing with runners in scoring position. The Jays will not do that. They want to keep the payroll under $100 million. Besides, the Giants averaged 73 wins per year the last three seasons with a younger Bonds in their lineup.
Damn those walks. And good point about the Giants sucking balls with Barry in the line-up. I mean, look at Bonds' pitching record over those three years; Not a win, hold or save to be counted (despite a very impressive 0.00 ERA). And those front office decisions that Barry made were terrible. Omar Vizquel? What was Barry thinking signing a 38 year-old shortstop whose best years and decline years were a distant memory. And that contract Bonds gave to Barry Zito? That is going to drive Giants fans to drink for years to come.
AND ANOTHER THING
The New York Rangers seem to have taken a page out of the Bush Administration's playbook by declaring a falsehood to be fact (Irag has weapons of mass destruction / Sidney Crosby is a cheater) and repeating the lie ad nauseum until it becomes accepted as truth.
Last Thursday, Rangers coach Tom Renney insinuated that Crosby has a tendency to embellish and said he would bring it up with officials before the series started. Crosby, clearly coloured unimpressed by Renney's accusation, responded by saying something along the lines of I know you are, but what am I: "If I go down, it's because I've been forced down. I'll do whatever I can to stay on my feet. I think he (Renney) should be the one worried about diving."
So, after a bizarre penalty call near the end of game one resulted in the Penguins scoring the game winner, the Rangers stuck closely to their talking points. Tom Renney gave a snarky "Did you see it?" when questioned, and Martin Straka told reporters that Crosby dove. Of course, we can't really have a discussion about the rules in the new NHL unless we hear from the guy who created them: "I think it's a weak call at that time of the game," Rangers forward Brendan Shanahan said, self-importantly. "I think Sidney embellished."
Now, it can't be a full-on Bush analogy here unless we have someone to play the role of Cheney...someone who can stand up, and seemingly without a clue that their previous words are on the record, completely contradict everything they said earlier. Do their best impression of a Dick and, you know, lie. Like Shanny did the next day:
"I feel like the only thing our team did after the game last night
was defend Martin Straka," Shanahan said. "We certainly didn't come
into the room, throw down our equipment and say, 'We got hosed by the
refs.' So I'm kind of surprised that Therrien's making it a big issue
today," parumphed Shanahan, with a surprisingly straight face.
"Because we aren't. If he wants to bring the referees' attention to it, then fine."
Way to take the highroad, Brendan.
Seems like everyone's reading from the same page concerning the Jays release of Frank Thomas. Unfortunately, the page was ripped from Dusty Baker's Guide To Managing:
Steve Simmons: The Blue Jays made the right move benching DH Frank Thomas yesterday. In fact, for their own protection, they need to do it more often. Never mind that he clogs up the base paths and the middle of their order.
Gerry Fraley, The Sporting News: In his last 35 at-bats with Toronto, he had only four hits -- all singles -- and one RBI. Those few times Thomas reached, he clogged the bases.
Richard Griffin: With yesterday's release of Thomas, the Jays effectively gave him $18.12 million (all figures U.S.) for 696 plate appearances that produced 157 hits, 29 homers and 106 RBIs, with a .266 average. Yes, he reached base 100 times on walks and hit-by-pitch, but most times that was just clogging the basepaths.
Plus, he forever clogged the bases with his lack of mobility ... and that is not something that has changed since GM J.P. Ricciardi reached agreement with Thomas just three days into the '06 free-agent signing period
That's what separates Griffin from your run of the mill baseball columnists - he doubles up on the cliches in a two-fisted assault on The Big Clog and his chunky cloggy unmoveable basepath bunged-up congestion in all aspects of his cloggy obstructionist basepath cloggery. We clear here? Frank Thomas is so cloggy he's actually Dutch, and in the off season paints tulips under the name "Johan Neeskens."
Picture if you will, the ideal basepaths, ones free and clear and empty, like healthy arteries. To them, Frank Thomas is this, a side of these, and three of these for dessert. The Jays need to be built around carrot stick ballpayers like David Eckstein and Shannon Stewart, who keep the bases clean and run quickly back to the dugout. This speeds up games, which helps the fratboy contingent of Blue Jays fans not get too hosed in the cheap seats and create embarrassing headlines.
Griffin gives new meaning to gilding the lily when he ranks Thomas, a guy who put up a 125 OPS+ last year, ahead of Erik Freaking Hanson as the worst Jays free agent signing ever. And how the hell did this guy not get a mention?
So since the local stringers are taking their horsehide analysis straight from the Church of Dusty, I look forward to their horrified mea culpas in a few months - they should have known that black guys kick ass in August.
CLOG!
Alright rockers, we know it's been a while since we rapped at ya, but times have been lean in the taking-potshots-at-the-toy-department-department lately. There has been a distinct lack of cox to bloc, of mittenstringing to zing. But our prayers have been answered, so let's catch up with the old gang:
Simba used The Immortal Gazza Roberts's 2-goal performance against Ottawa to rewrite a column from around 2002:
While Roberts was able to elevate his game and elevate others around him at the same time while with the Leafs, Sundin has managed to elevate only his own game, having little tangible impact on the play of his teammates.
The fire you witness now, even in a 41-year-old Roberts, is the kind of fire Leafs teams have been missing since his negotiation was mangled by the previous Toronto general manager. The kind of leadership that never is easily replaced.
I love Gary Roberts, but the assertion that what the Leafs really needed this year was a 41-year-old winger who managed to suit up for all of 19 games is ridiculous even by his low standards. I look forward to next week's column on another Leaf legend:
Dave Keon took a big crap this morning. At 68, the craps don't come as often or as easy as they once did. But it was a winner's crap - a captain's crap - nonetheless. Packed with Metamucil and heart. Unlike Mats Sundin, who fills the bowl everyday with nothing but his own selfishness, and maybe some half-digested herring, this crap could inspire a team to greatness. It's the kind of crap the Leafs have forgotten these last forty-odd Cupless years. But breathe deep, and you can still smell it now.
Also revealed in this brainsqueeze - Stephen A Smith may love the CHEEZ DOODLES, but Simmons is all about the Girl Guide cookies. Edgy!
Darren Dreger bade farewell to his number one source this week, Dave Nonis. Shockingly, Dreger thinks firing Cousin Dave was a bad move. The most offensive thing about this piece of journalism was Dreger's use of the term "manager" to refer to GMs, as in "shrewd managers don't give McCabe that contract." Oooh, it's so insidery! When the hell did this start? Was it Bob McKenzie? It makes the high-profile, exciting job we've all dreamed of - making blockbuster deals, building a contender, going apeshit on Cox, buying out Andrew Raycroft- sound like making sure the night shift at Kinko's has enough toner and letting Zack F know he's canned if he comes in baked again. Jesus.
Richard Griffin wrote a good column about baseball, proving he's a solid writer as long as he steers clear of any analysis of what's actually happening on the field. He's got a million war stories, however, and today I quite enjoyed this little tidbit:
I understood when I travelled to Montreal on the 50th anniversary of Robinson's debut with the Royals. At an Expos press conference honouring the pioneer, his widow, Rachel, was refused a glass of water because speeches were starting, while owner Claude Brochu's wife, standing next to her, was offered a glass of wine.
Ahh, the same bang-up Expos staff I remember from my time in Montreal. Once I called the Expos ticket office to inquire about the start time of that night's game, and the lady replied "What game?" At least she didn't say "What time can you make it?"
His cantankerous counterpart at the Globe, Jeff Blair, ran hot and cold this week. First we had this kind of quality inside dirt that he relishes providing:
as good as Bedard's stuff is, he has yet to pitch 200 innings in a season. There are scouts who wonder about his adherence to his conditioning program - lots of them - and, frankly, whether the guy gets the rest he needs during the regular season.
And then this, linked only it seems by their shared nationality and the desire to pad out some space:
And while we're at it, our guy Russell Martin of the Los Angeles Dodgers has been plagued by the same malaise that's hit the rest of his teammates: a .146 average?
Malaise? Yes, Joe Torre is Jimmy Carter, Andruw Jones's contract is stagflation in action.... or you know, it could be just forty-odd at-bats. Easy, hoss. Russell Martin's middle name is Nathan Coltrane Jeanson. Coltrane! You don't just count a guy like that out.
Cox and Shoalts both seemed fairly excited this week about Brian Burke bringing his act to town. Aside from why they would want someone who is going to lay into them on the daily at the helm (they cover the Leafs, they're clearly masochists), is Burke really that good? He strikes me as a guy who has done well when he has inherited a fair bit of talent, but maybe not much of a drafter or a builder. Thoughts?
Finally, Roy MacGregor has taken his brand of warmed over Gzowski, spiced it with some Sens homerism, and dumped in on the Globe's sports section recently. The highlight was his story on Game Three, which taught us all a valuable lesson about writing the game story before the game actually, you know, happens. Roy of the Ramblers was so invested in bigging up Alfredsson's comeback as bigger than Willis Reed at the Garden, Randy Savage over Ric Flair, and the Soviet Union at Stalingrad combined, he couldn't let a couple things like Alfie's undeniably courageous but completely ineffectual performance, or the fact that the Sens got played out of the building yet again get in the way. Of course, he may not have really been paying attention to the game at all:
For two periods they held on, tied 1-1 after 40 minutes, but more bad penalties in the third and eventually the Penguins were able to trump any psychological advantage with a skill advantage.
Yeah, dumb penalties were sure the cause of Pittsburgh's first two goals in three minutes. You know, the even strength ones. Hopefully Roy trudging back to page to pen more eyeglazers on wheat farmers representing our indomitable Canadian spirit or six months of pieces about his cottage (and to be fair, the man does write a mean feature article, but good god those columns) will be one of many side benefits of the Sens latest springtime bedshittery. Has any team packed that much embarassment into four games lately?
So, there we are, all caught up with everyone - except Feschuk. Sorry! Write a blog post about what a useless clod I am. It always makes me feel better.
Simba used The Immortal Gazza Roberts's 2-goal performance against Ottawa to rewrite a column from around 2002:
While Roberts was able to elevate his game and elevate others around him at the same time while with the Leafs, Sundin has managed to elevate only his own game, having little tangible impact on the play of his teammates.
The fire you witness now, even in a 41-year-old Roberts, is the kind of fire Leafs teams have been missing since his negotiation was mangled by the previous Toronto general manager. The kind of leadership that never is easily replaced.
I love Gary Roberts, but the assertion that what the Leafs really needed this year was a 41-year-old winger who managed to suit up for all of 19 games is ridiculous even by his low standards. I look forward to next week's column on another Leaf legend:
Dave Keon took a big crap this morning. At 68, the craps don't come as often or as easy as they once did. But it was a winner's crap - a captain's crap - nonetheless. Packed with Metamucil and heart. Unlike Mats Sundin, who fills the bowl everyday with nothing but his own selfishness, and maybe some half-digested herring, this crap could inspire a team to greatness. It's the kind of crap the Leafs have forgotten these last forty-odd Cupless years. But breathe deep, and you can still smell it now.
Also revealed in this brainsqueeze - Stephen A Smith may love the CHEEZ DOODLES, but Simmons is all about the Girl Guide cookies. Edgy!
Darren Dreger bade farewell to his number one source this week, Dave Nonis. Shockingly, Dreger thinks firing Cousin Dave was a bad move. The most offensive thing about this piece of journalism was Dreger's use of the term "manager" to refer to GMs, as in "shrewd managers don't give McCabe that contract." Oooh, it's so insidery! When the hell did this start? Was it Bob McKenzie? It makes the high-profile, exciting job we've all dreamed of - making blockbuster deals, building a contender, going apeshit on Cox, buying out Andrew Raycroft- sound like making sure the night shift at Kinko's has enough toner and letting Zack F know he's canned if he comes in baked again. Jesus.
Richard Griffin wrote a good column about baseball, proving he's a solid writer as long as he steers clear of any analysis of what's actually happening on the field. He's got a million war stories, however, and today I quite enjoyed this little tidbit:
I understood when I travelled to Montreal on the 50th anniversary of Robinson's debut with the Royals. At an Expos press conference honouring the pioneer, his widow, Rachel, was refused a glass of water because speeches were starting, while owner Claude Brochu's wife, standing next to her, was offered a glass of wine.
Ahh, the same bang-up Expos staff I remember from my time in Montreal. Once I called the Expos ticket office to inquire about the start time of that night's game, and the lady replied "What game?" At least she didn't say "What time can you make it?"
His cantankerous counterpart at the Globe, Jeff Blair, ran hot and cold this week. First we had this kind of quality inside dirt that he relishes providing:
as good as Bedard's stuff is, he has yet to pitch 200 innings in a season. There are scouts who wonder about his adherence to his conditioning program - lots of them - and, frankly, whether the guy gets the rest he needs during the regular season.
And then this, linked only it seems by their shared nationality and the desire to pad out some space:
And while we're at it, our guy Russell Martin of the Los Angeles Dodgers has been plagued by the same malaise that's hit the rest of his teammates: a .146 average?
Malaise? Yes, Joe Torre is Jimmy Carter, Andruw Jones's contract is stagflation in action.... or you know, it could be just forty-odd at-bats. Easy, hoss. Russell Martin's middle name is Nathan Coltrane Jeanson. Coltrane! You don't just count a guy like that out.
Cox and Shoalts both seemed fairly excited this week about Brian Burke bringing his act to town. Aside from why they would want someone who is going to lay into them on the daily at the helm (they cover the Leafs, they're clearly masochists), is Burke really that good? He strikes me as a guy who has done well when he has inherited a fair bit of talent, but maybe not much of a drafter or a builder. Thoughts?
Finally, Roy MacGregor has taken his brand of warmed over Gzowski, spiced it with some Sens homerism, and dumped in on the Globe's sports section recently. The highlight was his story on Game Three, which taught us all a valuable lesson about writing the game story before the game actually, you know, happens. Roy of the Ramblers was so invested in bigging up Alfredsson's comeback as bigger than Willis Reed at the Garden, Randy Savage over Ric Flair, and the Soviet Union at Stalingrad combined, he couldn't let a couple things like Alfie's undeniably courageous but completely ineffectual performance, or the fact that the Sens got played out of the building yet again get in the way. Of course, he may not have really been paying attention to the game at all:
For two periods they held on, tied 1-1 after 40 minutes, but more bad penalties in the third and eventually the Penguins were able to trump any psychological advantage with a skill advantage.
Yeah, dumb penalties were sure the cause of Pittsburgh's first two goals in three minutes. You know, the even strength ones. Hopefully Roy trudging back to page to pen more eyeglazers on wheat farmers representing our indomitable Canadian spirit or six months of pieces about his cottage (and to be fair, the man does write a mean feature article, but good god those columns) will be one of many side benefits of the Sens latest springtime bedshittery. Has any team packed that much embarassment into four games lately?
So, there we are, all caught up with everyone - except Feschuk. Sorry! Write a blog post about what a useless clod I am. It always makes me feel better.
Commenter clark4calder posed this query in our comments this morning:
Whoa..did Paul Maurice drop a steamer on Dave Feschuk's lawn or something? WTF is up with his piece in the Star today?
With a juicy tidbit like that I had to read, and it didn't disappoint:
Or maybe it's just a gut feeling brought on by prolonged exposure to Maurice's post-failure mumbo-jumbo. When it comes to making the good old hockey game seem like rocket science, he's got it down to a science.
1. Starwipe editors are disappointed with Cox's kid-glove treatment of the suits at MLSE
2. Maurice won't stop calling Feschuk 'Scott.'
3. Andrew Raycroft is actually an incredibly skilled computer hacker.
4. Maurice prefers Hagar to Roth.
5. Maurice put guinea worms in Feschuk's travel kit.
6. Thousands of years ago, on the distant world Bilettinore, two emerged as the most gifted of all the Sorcerer Raven's disciples: the virtuous Fezzchawk and the malevolent Mawrees. This battle of scribe and coach is but one of an infinite number of titanic struggles taking place simultaneously across the Alt-World-Lands, till the day when one of them triumphs to claim The Forger's Key and its terrible power to rip the very frames of time from their dusty hinges.
7. Maurice farts in the car.
8. No matter how many precautions Feschuk takes, Maurice always finds a way to make off with those pick-a-nick baskets.
9. Dave Feschuk is kind of a jerk.
Whoa..did Paul Maurice drop a steamer on Dave Feschuk's lawn or something? WTF is up with his piece in the Star today?
With a juicy tidbit like that I had to read, and it didn't disappoint:
Or maybe it's just a gut feeling brought on by prolonged exposure to Maurice's post-failure mumbo-jumbo. When it comes to making the good old hockey game seem like rocket science, he's got it down to a science.
"It's easy to say, `Why do you stink?' That's now almost a sign of intelligence. If you can say something nasty about the Maple Leafs, you clearly know the game," said Maurice yesterday, delivering yet another lost season's post-mortem. "But we're in that environment, all things are wrong. The GM's gotta go. The coach has gotta go. The captain's gotta go. All the players gotta go. You gotta blow everything up ..."
He said it as though he had a better idea, of course, as though none of this would be happening if the full scope of his intellect were ever unleashed on the NHL. And shame on the morons for not seeing the brilliance behind Maurice's three-year tenure as a head coach in Toronto, which includes exactly one playoff berth - with, ahem, the AHL Marlies - who were ousted in the first round a few years back.
Our apologies, Coach, for perpetuating the insane idea that the 41-year championship drought now residing at 40 Bay St. is a national joke. And now that you'll almost certainly be preparing your resumé for circulation, here are a couple of tips in your impending job search. You might not want to mention that you've been head coach of NHL teams in 10 different seasons and that your teams have now missed the playoffs seven times. Leave out the bit about losing in the first round two other times. And go heavy on your nice run to the Cup final with the 2002 Hurricanes, when the Maurice era looked positively Bowman-esque.
Whoa. WTF indeed. I've thought hard on this all day, friends, and here are the possible reasons I've come up with for why the Star's favourite shinny dilettante perpetrated this unhinged type-by:1. Starwipe editors are disappointed with Cox's kid-glove treatment of the suits at MLSE
2. Maurice won't stop calling Feschuk 'Scott.'
3. Andrew Raycroft is actually an incredibly skilled computer hacker.
4. Maurice prefers Hagar to Roth.
5. Maurice put guinea worms in Feschuk's travel kit.
6. Thousands of years ago, on the distant world Bilettinore, two emerged as the most gifted of all the Sorcerer Raven's disciples: the virtuous Fezzchawk and the malevolent Mawrees. This battle of scribe and coach is but one of an infinite number of titanic struggles taking place simultaneously across the Alt-World-Lands, till the day when one of them triumphs to claim The Forger's Key and its terrible power to rip the very frames of time from their dusty hinges.
7. Maurice farts in the car.
8. No matter how many precautions Feschuk takes, Maurice always finds a way to make off with those pick-a-nick baskets.
9. Dave Feschuk is kind of a jerk.
If you have been to the bathroom at your grandparents house in the last few days, you've probably seen something called a Maclean's Magazine sitting in a basket beside the toilet. For those of you who aren't familiar with this publication, MacLeans offers readers week-old news alongside the hate-filled ramblings of Canada's least-sympathetic prison-widow, all for around four bucks.
A couple years ago a Macleans writer named Steve Maich created a little online stink when he wrote that the internet was a big ol waste of money because of the prevalence of sex, gambling, pederasses, terrorism, file-sharing and blogs, while misrepresenting all the good things about the internet (sex, gambling, file-sharing) and ignoring the rest (Baseball Reference, Pension Plan Puppets, not having to pay for magazines). The online community got all up in arms - as they are apt to do anytime anyone anywhere criticizes the internet in general and blogs in particular - and Maich's article was linked all over the place and got a tonne of hits.
Fast forward to 2008, and Mr. Maich is again screaming "LOOK AT ME" at the top of his lungs, this time by inciting an even more overly-sensitive and guaranteed-to-generate-hits audience: Leafs fans! (Of course, being both a blogger and a Leafs fan, I have no choice but to address this, even though I really shouldn't reward Maich's transparent attention-seeking tactics. It is Pavlovian response. I am helpless. See how it works?)
Anyway, Mr. Maich isn't a big fan of computers, but he probably didn't have a problem with Maclean's blowing the Photoshop budget on this week's cover:
Maclean's really pulled out all the stops on this one: not only do the Leafs stink, but all the other Canadian teams are awesome! Does Maclean's not realize they already made fans of the other teams happy by simply stating that the Leafs stink? No need to waste ink on the graffiti-style pandering to the fans of the provincial teams.
The content of the actual article reads like your standard mittenstringer screed. First off, we have the strawman argument:
It would be comforting to believe that the Toronto Maple Leafs are cursed. After 41 years of failure, supernatural explanations start to seem pretty attractive, especially when hard facts are just too painful to face.
Not once in my life have I ever heard a Leaf fan claim that a curse is responsible for the Leafs woes. Nope. It is ownership's fault. Always has been, from Ballard through Stavros right on into the current disaster. (Note that Mr. Maich, who has expressed disdain for bloggers in the past because they don't interview people for their stories, doesn't actually interview any Leafs fans for this piece).
The only problem with all this talk of curses is that there are perfectly logical reasons for the Leafs' legacy of failure.
The problem, of course, is ownership. Mr. Maich goes on in detail: A dysfunctional management group, no real desire to win, a monopoly on the largest market in the country...a surefire recipe for disaster. It is all true, but the thing is, everybody knows this already. Everybody. Leafs fans can't escape it. Leaf-haters revel in it. Damien Cox writes about it every day. This is old news, even for a magazine that does little other than publish old news.
There are lots of hockey stories that could have graced the cover of Maclean's this week. How about an article on the amazing success of the Habs in 07-08? A feel-good story for a lot of people this season (as annoying as they may be right now). How about them Sens and their stunning collapse? Or, how about an article on why the Canucks stink? Large market, die-hard fans, and that team has never won shit (and they're one Luongo away from being the worst team in the league).
Nope. Maclean's simply trolls to get cheap attention, and it works.
Bizarrely, and despite its best efforts, Maclean's hasn't succeed in producing the most ridiculous magazine cover of the hockey season . That honour goes to another Canadian institution struggling for relevance:
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Consider yourself counted, tough guy.
A couple years ago a Macleans writer named Steve Maich created a little online stink when he wrote that the internet was a big ol waste of money because of the prevalence of sex, gambling, pederasses, terrorism, file-sharing and blogs, while misrepresenting all the good things about the internet (sex, gambling, file-sharing) and ignoring the rest (Baseball Reference, Pension Plan Puppets, not having to pay for magazines). The online community got all up in arms - as they are apt to do anytime anyone anywhere criticizes the internet in general and blogs in particular - and Maich's article was linked all over the place and got a tonne of hits.
Fast forward to 2008, and Mr. Maich is again screaming "LOOK AT ME" at the top of his lungs, this time by inciting an even more overly-sensitive and guaranteed-to-generate-hits audience: Leafs fans! (Of course, being both a blogger and a Leafs fan, I have no choice but to address this, even though I really shouldn't reward Maich's transparent attention-seeking tactics. It is Pavlovian response. I am helpless. See how it works?)
Anyway, Mr. Maich isn't a big fan of computers, but he probably didn't have a problem with Maclean's blowing the Photoshop budget on this week's cover:
Maclean's really pulled out all the stops on this one: not only do the Leafs stink, but all the other Canadian teams are awesome! Does Maclean's not realize they already made fans of the other teams happy by simply stating that the Leafs stink? No need to waste ink on the graffiti-style pandering to the fans of the provincial teams.The content of the actual article reads like your standard mittenstringer screed. First off, we have the strawman argument:
It would be comforting to believe that the Toronto Maple Leafs are cursed. After 41 years of failure, supernatural explanations start to seem pretty attractive, especially when hard facts are just too painful to face.
Not once in my life have I ever heard a Leaf fan claim that a curse is responsible for the Leafs woes. Nope. It is ownership's fault. Always has been, from Ballard through Stavros right on into the current disaster. (Note that Mr. Maich, who has expressed disdain for bloggers in the past because they don't interview people for their stories, doesn't actually interview any Leafs fans for this piece).
The only problem with all this talk of curses is that there are perfectly logical reasons for the Leafs' legacy of failure.
The problem, of course, is ownership. Mr. Maich goes on in detail: A dysfunctional management group, no real desire to win, a monopoly on the largest market in the country...a surefire recipe for disaster. It is all true, but the thing is, everybody knows this already. Everybody. Leafs fans can't escape it. Leaf-haters revel in it. Damien Cox writes about it every day. This is old news, even for a magazine that does little other than publish old news.
There are lots of hockey stories that could have graced the cover of Maclean's this week. How about an article on the amazing success of the Habs in 07-08? A feel-good story for a lot of people this season (as annoying as they may be right now). How about them Sens and their stunning collapse? Or, how about an article on why the Canucks stink? Large market, die-hard fans, and that team has never won shit (and they're one Luongo away from being the worst team in the league).
Nope. Maclean's simply trolls to get cheap attention, and it works.
Bizarrely, and despite its best efforts, Maclean's hasn't succeed in producing the most ridiculous magazine cover of the hockey season . That honour goes to another Canadian institution struggling for relevance:
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Consider yourself counted, tough guy.
We've been beaming like proud papas ever since we heard the news that one of our mittenstringing own got called up to the Show, the satirical big leagues, about 14 rungs above our corner of the interwebs:
"Toronto Columnist Writes Annual 'Blue Jays Have A Chance' Article"
TORONTO--Following a flurry of offseason activity by his hometown Blue Jays, Toronto Star baseball columnist Richard Griffin has written his yearly mid-March article asserting that the Jays have a chance to contend in the AL East.
Wait, what the hell? Even we know that satire has to have a passing relationship to the truth to play, be it Steve Simmons as Sports Beat Ralph Wiggum or Damien Cox as deranged contrarian (wait, that's not satire at all -nevermind). If you want satire we can use, why not "Toronto Columnist Writes Weekly 'Fire Ricciardi' Article" or to stay a little more current, how about "Toronto Columnist Writes Hourly 'Reed Johnson in Memoriam' Article, 800-page Manifesto To Be Distributed at Skydome Thursday; Sandwich Board and Markers Purchased"?
That's right, after devoting last week's entire Lamebag to the Screed for Reed, Grimace comes out swinging this week at some poor sap who dared suggest that the Jays' dismissal of a 31-year old left-fielder with a below average bat and indifferent defence who has made over five million dollars out of the game was not an injustice on par with the Dreyfus Affair, Forrest Gump winning Best Picture, or Game 6 of the 1993 Western Conference Finals:
Baseball columnist Richard Griffin answers your Blue Jays questions, and this week has a warning for seamheads and stats geeks: ...
GET OFF HIS LAWN!
Actually, it should be:
Baseball columnist Richard Griffin answers your Blue Jays questions, and this week has a warning for seamheads and stats geeks: ...
He doesn't understand statistics, so leave him alone!
How else do you explain his argument that Johnny McGlovin should be Halladay's personal SS cause "Face it, in a game where one of the best pitchers in baseball is plying his trade, he does not need the extra run that a more offensive player might provide, he needs the two runs that a superior defender might prevent." John McDonald saves 324 runs a season, folks. I need to call upstate New York and tell them to get the plaque ready. Oh, and +10 for the logical fallacy.
However, a later question proves that Grimace stands far above the hectoring of mortals like myself and the Onion:
Q-Shaun Marcum, real deal?
A-It depends on whether you are asking about Shaun Marcum as a human being or as a major-league player.
"My 35 years in the game has given me the power to measure not only a young man's split-finger fastball, but the mettle of his immortal soul!!!!! Try to put that on a spreadsheet you square-eyed idolators!"
So judge not, lest we be judged.
In other stuff I couldn't fit in properly, Rance "Smithers" Mulliniks thinks the Jays will go all the way, Jeff Blair wrote a good, informative piece about JP and his tenure (I particularly liked the part about the backlash from his firing of scouts) and Griffin bitched today about the unfairness of the Jays getting beat by Melky Cabrera when he should have been suspended. Tough loss for the Halladay and the Jays, but Dick can apparently see to it that Melky will be tormented for eternity in a lake of fire, so it evens out. Yep, gonna be a long season. Stick around.
"Toronto Columnist Writes Annual 'Blue Jays Have A Chance' Article"
TORONTO--Following a flurry of offseason activity by his hometown Blue Jays, Toronto Star baseball columnist Richard Griffin has written his yearly mid-March article asserting that the Jays have a chance to contend in the AL East.
Wait, what the hell? Even we know that satire has to have a passing relationship to the truth to play, be it Steve Simmons as Sports Beat Ralph Wiggum or Damien Cox as deranged contrarian (wait, that's not satire at all -nevermind). If you want satire we can use, why not "Toronto Columnist Writes Weekly 'Fire Ricciardi' Article" or to stay a little more current, how about "Toronto Columnist Writes Hourly 'Reed Johnson in Memoriam' Article, 800-page Manifesto To Be Distributed at Skydome Thursday; Sandwich Board and Markers Purchased"?
That's right, after devoting last week's entire Lamebag to the Screed for Reed, Grimace comes out swinging this week at some poor sap who dared suggest that the Jays' dismissal of a 31-year old left-fielder with a below average bat and indifferent defence who has made over five million dollars out of the game was not an injustice on par with the Dreyfus Affair, Forrest Gump winning Best Picture, or Game 6 of the 1993 Western Conference Finals:
A-I find the general attitude of seamheads and stat geeks like yourself towards real, human, flesh and blood players that don't measure up to your computer-generated ideals to be sad....
But please recall how Jays' GM J.P. Ricciardi dissed Shannon Stewart when he originally traded him to the Twins for Bobby Kielty. Shannon is older now, still running against the wind. I don't blame you for your immaturity. It's easy for someone on the outside looking in to disregard the humanity of players. But it's difficult for someone that has been in the major-league game for 35 years to do the same. There will never be any apologies from my part for caring about players as human beings, no matter how flawed their skills may seem when run through a computer.
God, you think he'd at least be happy the Jays brought back a black guy. Worse still is the canard, as tired by now as the 'bloggers live in their parents basement' that somehow a deep desire to understand more about the game, and hope your ballclub applies that understanding so they can you know, win baseball games, is incompatible with the joy, suffering, and passion of a fan. In fact, the exact opposite is true. Bill James put the definitive smackdown on this idiocy in his chat on the Freakonomics blog this very week:Q: Has looking at the numbers prevented you from actually just enjoying a summer day at the ballpark? Have we all forgotten the randomness of human ballplayers? By reducing players to just their numbers can we lose sight of the intangibles such as teamwork, friendships, and desire.
A: Does looking at pretty women prevent one from experiencing love? Life is complicated. Your efforts to compartmentalize it are lame and useless.
But I should have known, I guess. The Star slapped a warning on this week's 2Extreme to HANDL Lamebag before the click-through:Baseball columnist Richard Griffin answers your Blue Jays questions, and this week has a warning for seamheads and stats geeks: ...
GET OFF HIS LAWN!
Actually, it should be:
Baseball columnist Richard Griffin answers your Blue Jays questions, and this week has a warning for seamheads and stats geeks: ...
He doesn't understand statistics, so leave him alone!
How else do you explain his argument that Johnny McGlovin should be Halladay's personal SS cause "Face it, in a game where one of the best pitchers in baseball is plying his trade, he does not need the extra run that a more offensive player might provide, he needs the two runs that a superior defender might prevent." John McDonald saves 324 runs a season, folks. I need to call upstate New York and tell them to get the plaque ready. Oh, and +10 for the logical fallacy.
However, a later question proves that Grimace stands far above the hectoring of mortals like myself and the Onion:
Q-Shaun Marcum, real deal?
A-It depends on whether you are asking about Shaun Marcum as a human being or as a major-league player.
"My 35 years in the game has given me the power to measure not only a young man's split-finger fastball, but the mettle of his immortal soul!!!!! Try to put that on a spreadsheet you square-eyed idolators!"
So judge not, lest we be judged.
In other stuff I couldn't fit in properly, Rance "Smithers" Mulliniks thinks the Jays will go all the way, Jeff Blair wrote a good, informative piece about JP and his tenure (I particularly liked the part about the backlash from his firing of scouts) and Griffin bitched today about the unfairness of the Jays getting beat by Melky Cabrera when he should have been suspended. Tough loss for the Halladay and the Jays, but Dick can apparently see to it that Melky will be tormented for eternity in a lake of fire, so it evens out. Yep, gonna be a long season. Stick around.
