Geraldo Rivera said Friday he would “bet money” that Trayvon Martin wouldn’t have been fatally shot if the teenager hadn’t been wearing a hoodie, and the Fox News host’s comments immediately drew a fierce response, with one critic branding him a “moron” on Twitter.
“I am urging the parents of black and Latino youngsters particularly to not let their children go out wearing hoodies,” Rivera said on “Fox & Friends.” “I think the hoodie is as much responsible for Trayvon Martin’s death as George Zimmerman was.”
Following a series of tweets last night in which Mad Dog Radio host/determined Tim Tebow apologist Dino Costa (above) characterized The Nation’s Dave Zirin as “a dumb ass flaming lib” and this very blog as a “little website”, I thought it might be a tad illuminating to check out Costa’s own attempts at stringing more than 140 characters together. On Wednesday, Costa informed his dozen or so readers, “sports leagues have gone overboard with these uniforms that have a matchup like we had last night, the ‘El Magic’ taking on the ‘Los Bulls’…if you’re like me (someone who never thought it was cute) you’re sickened with the frequency that we see these jerseys and uniforms adorned with foreign names.” Seriously, what the hell is a “Blue Jay” or a “Raptor”? How can we as Americans be expected to understand such obscure, foreign references?
As far as the NBA is concerned, this is all part of something they call; Noche Latino.
I call it; Bullshit.
These are American franchises operated on American soil, and the last time I checked, you needed to purchase tickets to NBA games with American money.
Everything else in this going to hell in a handbag country is up for sale — that apparently includes our sports leagues as well.
In the politically correct and sickeningly frightening world of the NBA, Noche Latino involves cities with franchises that have the most concentrated Latin & Hispanic communities.
What about the top 5 markets with the most Jewish representation — don’t those folks count too?
I have a message for the NBA and Major League Baseball.
This isn’t the Dominican, this isn’t Mexico, it isn’t Argentina, and it’s not El Salvador.
Your teams and your leagues operate in The United States Of America.
This is America, Mr. Stern.
This is America, Mr. Selig.
It used to be anyway.
A cursory Google search failed to turn up Costa columns castigating MLB or the NBA for teams wearing green uniforms on St. Patrick’s Day, or any praise for the New York Mets hosting Jewish Heritage Night. At the risk of regurgitating a portion of last night’s tweets, I’ll say this much for Dino — making Chris Russo seem thoughtful or well read by comparison cannot be a very easy job.
With apologies to La Peste for the above mangled headline, Mavericks F Lamar Odom totaled one point, one rebound and 2 assists in 28+ minutes in Wednesday’s loss to the Lakers. Remarkably, the box score might not entirely do justice to Mr. Khole Khardashian’s current level of non-intensity. “I want so badly to take it wasy on Odom,” writes The Two Man Game’s Rob Mahoney, “but this is getting ridiculous.:
Lamar Odom was entirely reduced to being a spot-up guy. Not a spot-up shooter — just a spot-up guy. He parked himself on the perimeter — spacing the floor in theory, I suppose — for entire possessions at a time, and didn’t get all that many touches as a result. Rick Carlisle has given him miles of leeway, and yet 43 games into the season we have yet to see any kind of sustained spark. Inconsistency is one thing, but Odom’s lack of effort — in a matchup in which he had everything to prove, no less – is completely pitiful. I won’t fault another man for dealing with his problems in whatever way he wishes, but I will say that this particular man is playing a brand of basketball so apathetic as to be altogether disrespectful to an organization that had embraced him as one of their own.
Yesterday was a frantic day for those covering the NFL, and between the league’s disciplinary action against the Saints and the on-again/off-again/on-again Tim Tebow trade to the Jets, it wasn’t a great time for ESPN’s Adam Schefter’s Blackberry to go kaput. Enter then, an enterprising man or woman who helpfully filled in for Schefter during a crucial spell, as described by Sports Rantz’ Diamond Joe ;
On Tuesday, an account was registered with the handle @AdarnSchefter. Let me repeat that: @AdarnSchefter. See, the real Adam Schefter is on Twitter – though, incidentally, his tweeting day would be cut short after he dropped his Blackberry and it was rendered “inoperable”. Bad time for that to happen, considering not only the possibility of a huge story breaking while he buys a new smartphone, but the Twitter impostor going by the name of “Adarn Schefter” – that’s A-D-A-R-N, as opposed to A-D-A-M… slick, huh? – could have broken more invalid stories at the real Schefter’s expense.
“Adarn’s” bio doesn’t copy the boilerplate ESPN legal notice you find on their Twitter accounts. Instead, it tells you right away that it’s “a fake account, breaking fake news”. “Adarn” made his debut at around 3 PM Eastern time on Tuesday. Within the hour, he would tweet “news” involving retired Steelers receiver Hines Ward and NFL Draft-bound quarterback Ryan Tannehill. But the crescendo would come at the end of the hour, when he wrote: “Filed to ESPN: The Jacksonville #Jaguars have offered The Denver #Broncos a 3rd round draft pick for QB Tim Tebow.”
Some were quick to point out the fake, but others – including respected sports journalists like the New York Times’ Judy Battista – were not so lucky.
“We’re going through a process of redirection and sort of reinvigoration,” Alderson said. “That takes a little bit of time and a little bit of patience. But I do believe having put [litigation] behind us and the likelihood of major investment in the team allows us a greater array of options.
“The immediate impact on our payroll is going to be negligible. [But] I do think the overall environment will be much more positive and allow us and fans to focus more on the team and less on the other externalities.”
Alderson indicated the decision to drop the payroll from $140 million in 2011 to about $90 million this year was more about evolution than uncertainty over what kind of payout ownership could be facing in a trial. He called last year’s payroll level “unsustainable” and cited the need for flexibility.
It was the actions of Payton (above), Williams, Mickey Loomis and Joe Vitt – or lack thereof – that led to the unprecedented punishment meted out today. It was their lack of institutional control that resulted in the unprecedented punishment. Their cavalier attitudes and carelessness left the league with no recourse and has caused irreparable short- and long-term damage to the organization.
Any hopes the Saints had of becoming the first NFL team to play in the Super Bowl on their home field in Super Bowl XLVII disintegrated with today’s news.
When the bounty scandal first broke, numerous reports, citing NFL sources, said the penalties would be “unprecedented.”
Date: 2012-03-17, 10:02AM CDT Reply to: firstname.lastname@example.org [Errors when replying to ads?]
What I am currently listening to: All Shall Perish, As I Lay Dying, All That Remains, Chimera, Lamb of God What I am into: Old Metallica, Slayer, Obituary, Death, etc What I am NOT into: Total shit like Dance Gavin Dance, Like Moths to Flames, any kind of piss-poor, sloppy guitar and whiny “my vag is so sensitive to sand” vocals.
** READ THIS ** Take a few seconds and read what I am into. Now imagine you contacting me and eventually calling me, and asking if I would like to play some blues. Or some 60s Rock. Or some Stone Temple Pilots. Or some Nickleback. ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME, AUSTIN? NO! The title says “Guitarist for Metal Band”, not “Guitarist for chicken fucking, bluesy-riffs, and sonic diarrhea”.
1. I prefer older musicians. I am 31, prefer people my age or older. Sorry kids.
2. I work, live, and get in trouble in N Austin area. Unless you have lined up clean Asian whores for after practice, I am NOT driving to Music Lab. I am not driving farther South than Parmer. Period.
3. NOT looking to make this a career. I want to make bad ass music, play out a couple times a month, possibly smoke weed, and fuck Metal chicks. That is all.
4. Please be able to play your instrument. You know what, I should not even have to write this shit here, but fuck me … this is Austin, so I seriously have to spell this shit out: * You know how to palm mute and use this skill. * You have enough gear to be heard over the drums. * You write your own music that consists of more than an open note speed picked with occasional staccato bullshit slapped on. * If you play blues, chicken-pick, own or play a Fender, tune to some ridiculous key or schema to hide your shitty skill level, or think that smelling and looking dirty makes you a musician… DO NOT CONTACT ME. * If you feel that for ANY REASON mommy will not let you out to play, do not contact me.
5. I own a full stack, couple effects (DISTORTION, MOTHER FUCKERS!), several guitars, Zoom H4 if we need to record a practice, and some other shit. You know, the basic stuff to meet up and play some Metal.
6. The last band I was in, the other guys were usually drunk by the end of the 2nd song. THIS IS FUCKING STUPID! You know what their shit sounded like? Four drunk clowns murdering their instruments, and one guy trying to figure out how the fucking song was supposed to be played that day. Not a good time. Please keep your alcoholism and Heroin / Crack addiction to a minimum while we practice.
I am looking for some musicians around my age who like more technical sounding Metal, around my area, who are serious about putting some songs together and playing out a bit. Please have something I can listen to so I have an idea of what you are wanting to do.
If you are another guitarist who just wants to and see if we can put some songs together, I can do that, too. Maybe we can write our shit and then try and find the other guys.
AUSTIN! You have, per capita, the highest “Fuckwit to Musician” ratio on the planet. Why so many flakes? Ninty-Five percent of you weak cow-fuckers cancel because you need to wash your skinny jeans and polish your fake glasses. You idiots are not interested in making music, please don’t waste my time and yours with your bullshit and excuses. Thanks.
Against all odds, I hope to find some decent Metal Musicians to hook up with and jam. Keep your fingers crossed.
#1. “Court and Spark,” Joni Mitchell
#16. “Win in the End (Theme from Teen Wolf),” Mark Safan /
“Roundball Rock (NCAA on CBS remix),” John Tesh
#8. “Ides of March,” Iron Maiden
#9. “Spheres of Madness,” Decapitated
#5. “Basketball Jones,” Cheech & Chong
#12. “The Time We Beat Clemson,” Jerry Clower
#4. anything off Shaq Fu: Da Return
#13. Alabama, “If You’re Gonna Play in Texas (You Gotta Have a Fiddle in the Band)”
#6. “Map Ref. 41°N 93°W,” Wire
#11. “Carry Me Ohio” Sun Kil Moon
#3. Kansas, “Bells of Saint James”
#14. absolutely nothing from Ron Artest’s My World
#7. “Dark Horse,” George Harrison
#10. “Cinderella,” Britney Spears
#2. “Chapel Hill,” Sonic Youth
#15. “Taking My Ball,” Eminem
Having watched the Mets medical staff weave their own brand of magic on behalf of Jose Reyes, Jason Bay and Ryan Church over the last few years, far be for me to suggest Philly’s training staff have been negligent in their TLC of Chase Utley. But with at least one scribe suggesting the 2B might no longer be fit enough to play, you can excuse Bugs & Cranks’ Nathan Aderhold from wondering exactly what’s up when “sixteen days prior to the first game of the season and after doing fuck-all for an entire month (and possibly the entire offseason), Chase Utley and the Phillies decided that maybe it was a good idea to see a guy about his shit.”
How the hell is it then that the Phillies haven’t hired an orthopedist to bug the living shit out of Chase Utley? I don’t mean weekly or monthly check-ups, I’m talking like Josh-Hamilton-accountability-partner annoying. Every day, by his side, making sure he doesn’t do anything that will endanger himself or the team’s investment.
I don’t mean for each and every player, I mean just Chase Utley. The guy who has suffered from chronic (meaning: never-ending) tendonitis in his knees since at least 2010. The guy who is now probably sitting in an ass-less hospital gown waiting for an MRI. The guy who is owed $30 million.
I have no idea how Chase Utley spent his offseason. Perhaps he spent every waking hour of his four and a half months off stretching and strengthening his knees with his own personal orthopedist only to still come up lame. More likely is that he was largely left to his own devices to adhere to a regimen prescribed by the team trainer.
“I feel amazing, I can’t really explain the feeling. It’s my first time making it that far in my basketball career,” said Stephon Marbury, who almost delivered a triple-double with 30 points, nine rebounds and eight assists on Sunday to down his former team.
It will be the first Finals berth for Marbury in either the NBA or CBA. The 35-year-old couldn’t contain his emotions, bursting into tears after the game and crying on coach Min Lulei’s shoulder in the locker room.
Marbury spent almost ten minutes leaning against the bathroom wall with his hands covering his tear-stained face before facing the media in a packed locker room.
Since landing in the league in 2010 with Shanxi, Marbury has vowed he would claim a championship. It’s always been a longshot, with the seven-time champion Guangdong Southern Tigers standing in the way.
“Since I came, I said it was my goal to make the final,” Marbury said. “A lot of people called me crazy. Some of my friends said ‘I don’t know if it will happen’. This team, they showed me something totally different from those that I’ve been on. I saw something inside of the players that I never seen before as far as the guys want to reach the finals.”
Warriors owner Joe Lacob attempted to pay tribute to Chris Mullin during the latter’s jersey retirement ceremonies last night, but found himself the targe of verbal abuse from Golden State fans enraged by the recent trade of Monta Ellis. After Rick Barry scolded the paying customers, the San Jose Mercury News’ Tim Kawakami defends Lacob, calling his refusal to run for cover, “stern and determined.”
OK, yes, Lacob probably shouldn’t have chosen that moment to speak; he was again grabbing center stage when it was better left to others, and I believe that led to some of the crowd’s anger.
But Lacob didn’t deserve THAT treatment. He’s not Cohan, and if fans were torturing him for the Monta Ellis trade, he really didn’t deserve that, because it’s a good far-sighted trade.
“I’m not going to let a few boos get me down, and I don’t expect a few boos to get our team down,” Lacob said. “I think everybody has to stay tough, these are tough times, we’re going to go out there and we’re going to compete and we’re going to win.
“And that’s my job as an owner, too, we’re going to do everything we have to do. Not going to let a few boos stop us. I obviously think whoever was booing is incorrect in their assumptions, but we’ll just let time heal all wounds. Winning will solve all things.”
Former Rawlings employee Scott Carpenter’s Carpenter Trade Company manufactures a custom-built synthetic leather mitt that according to the Atlantic’s Daniel Fromson, “many early adopters consider it the best glove in baseball.” At $300 a pop, surely Adam Dunn can afford one?
The big innovation is Carpenter’s use of suede-like synthetics—matted polymer fibers pioneered by the footwear industry—that weigh less than half as much as leather. After a decade of tweaking, his glove, according to his tests, is five to 10 ounces lighter than any rival. A baseball, Carpenter points out, weighs about five ounces: “Imagine taping two baseballs onto the back of your hand, and what a difference that would make if you were fielding a bad hop.” Other advantages include breathability, durability, and memory-foam-like padding.
Carpenter’s design also sets his glove apart. Among the spools of thread, bolts of fabric, and antique sewing machines in his workshop lie plaster casts of players’ hands. He shapes a glove’s lining to account for every contour and joint. A perfect fit eliminates slipping and translates to better leverage. In addition, the entire glove is more curved than usual and has flared-out sides, all of which helps funnel a ball into the pocket.
Many players view this kind of change as the equivalent of asking grown men to buy T-ball gloves. (Synthetic gloves long meant only one thing: vinyl, the Fisher-Price kiddie car to leather’s Rolls-Royce.) “People were making fun of it left and right,” says Philadelphia Phillies pitcher Michael Schwimer, recalling his minor-league teammates’ reactions when he began wearing a Carpenter glove in 2008. “It was like, ‘Aren’t those the ones that come in the cereal box?’” Nonetheless, Schwimer says the half dozen or so pros who use the glove—mostly minor-league pitchers—agree that its performance is unequaled: once players give it two weeks, he says, they don’t go back.
Sorry for the plethora of YouTube violence tonight, but I cannot fathom how the above clip (culled from Birdman’s Tattoo’s) of Denver’s Chris Andersen repeatedly being pummeled by Tim Duncan has only 104 views (as of this writing). Perhaps the public is simply blasé when it comes to watching The Birdman take balls to the face?
The agreement, which must be approved by the court, is a significant victory for Wilpon and Katz. In addition to no longer having to fight a costly and damaging legal battle against a well-heeled opponent who accused them of being willfully blind, they are now obligated to pay a fraction of the $1 billion the trustee originally sought.
Wilpon and Katz, and their families and businesses, will not have to pay much money, if any, out of pocket. Instead, they will now be eligible to receive up to $178 million from the billions of dollars that the trustee collects from the net winners.
If they get the full recovery within three years, $162 million of it will go to the trustee; if not, Wilpon and Katz are responsible to pay the rest over the fourth and fifth years.
“I guess I can smile now,” Wilpon said. “Maybe I can take a day off.”
“The terms seem too good to be true for Wilpon and Katz,” said Bradley D. Simon, a former federal prosecutor who now focuses on white-collar civil litigation for Simon & Partners. “I certainly consider this a capitulation by the trustee. It seems quite one-sided.”
As Sandomir and Belson correctly point out, the Mets aren’t nearly out of the woods yet. There’s the not-so-small sum of $400 million owed to various banks, another $40 million owed to Bank Of America and a $25 million loan from MLB dating back to 2010 that’s still owed. In other words, Bobby Bonilla should cash future checks from Flushing as quickly as possible.
It’s been reported in a number of outlets this weekend that former Indiana head coach Bobby Knight, currently toiling as an analyst for ESPN, won’t even utter the word, “Kentucky”, while discussing the ongoing NCAA hoops tournament. Given that John Calipari’s Wildcats are the #1 ranked team in the land, that’s a pretty conspicuous omission, and one that essentially erases any claim of Knight’s impartiality.
That said, Knight’s nothing if he isn’t consistent. Previously, he’s taken shots at Calipari and only those with a harsh case of attention deficit disorder are unaware of his animus towards the Wildcats. But it’s ridiculous that his thoughts are still being solicited by the Worldwide Leader this postseason given the likelihood Knight himself becomes part of the story.
Or maybe it’s less curious than it is totally contrived.
“You play with the Yankees, nothing surprises you,” said Freddy Garcia, still nursing a bruised right hand — and ego. “I don’t really care. That’s their decision. I have to pitch and that’s what I’m going to do.”
“I haven’t seen a change in Freddy’s personality,” said manager Joe Girardi, before adding to the staff in general: “My message would be, ‘If you don’t want someone to take your job, go out and pitch well.’ It’s not like Andy will break camp with us April 6.”
Garcia, who unlike most of those around him in the clubhouse doesn’t have a history with Pettitte, was asked if he thought the signing was good for the team.
“I don’t know,” he said. “Ask the people. I guess.”
Hey, Everybody! It’s been a while since your jerkface editor —- a man so disliked, he couldn’t secure an invite to Blogs With Balls with all the cocaine in Austin—- allowed me to bring my wit and wisdom to CSTB. And I sincerely wish he wouldn’t bother! While the rest of you are watching “Around The Horn” “Game Of Thrones”and pondering another night ALONE, I’m producing future generations of champions. I’m like the Marv Marinovich Billy Ray Cyrus of horses.
As you’ve probably read elsewhere, the euthanizing of a 3rd horse at Santa Anita during the filming of HBO’s “Luck” has led to the voluntary cancellation of the the David Milch/Michael Mann collaboration. Though I’ve been partial to the program (and not merely because it’s a pleasure to hear Rhys Chatham‘s music on television), I cannot argue with the New York Times’ Jim Squires who argues, “if the future of horse racing depends on the prevention of fractured skulls and broken leg bones, racing might as well shut down today. The fact is, the thoroughbred racing industry is not going to have any luck or much of a future until it quits turning a blind eye to its major problem — drugs.”
On the day “Luck” was canceled, the industry was again ballyhooing the return of “the sale horse” and the extraordinary profits connected with $500,000 and $800,000 prices being paid for horses at a Florida 2-year-old in training auction. Barely 24 months old and younger, these horses invariably had earned their value by running an eighth of a mile in 10 1/2 seconds or less, or a quarter-mile in 20 seconds and change. They did this after weeks of training for that one run down the track at speeds and levels of stress never again required for a successful racing career.
As is routine, some of them had probably already been inducted into a regimen of a diuretic and performance-enhancing drug known to leach calcium out their bones every time it is administered, even though a horse’s bones do not mature until age 6.
Because of unsoundness, Animal Kingdom, the winner of the 2011 Derby, has run only one allowance race since, and this week he was benched again for at least three months while he recovers from a stress fracture. Already this year some of the most promising young aspirants for the 2012 Triple Crown have been sidelined by stress fractures. And there by the wayside along with them are all the reform efforts to curtail the industry’s obsession with speed.
It is a shame that Milch, a knowledgeable horse owner who loves the game, and the impressive cadre of expert advisers he had assembled, didn’t get far enough along to deal with the drug issue, along with a few other horror stories that need telling. Then there would be less mystery about why our retired racehorses can’t even stand the stress of a short movie run and a greater understanding of why things need to be changed.
With apologies to Andrew Dice Clay for the above headline, it would seem Reds starter Bronson Arroyo, long known for one of the more tortuous covers of “Wonderwall” ever performed, is not quite ready to retire from music. Barry Bonds’ former personal biographer Barry M. Bloom of MLB.com says of a recent gig in Mesa, AZ, “Arroyo sang the vocals and sounded so much like Eddie Vedder you might have thought the real band was in the front room of Toby Keith’s I Love This Bar & Grill,” (link swiped from Repoz and Baseball Think Factory)
For those Pearl Jam aficionados, the set list included “Oceans,” “Even Flow,” “Alive” and “Given to Fly.”
“They’re my favorite group of all time,” Arroyo said.
Arroyo didn’t play guitar Thursday night. A few years ago he developed carpal tunnel syndrome in his pitching and pickin’ hand. The more he strums a guitar, with or without pick, the more sensitive his fingers become.
Numbness in the fingers of the right hand is not the greatest idea for someone who makes his living twirling a baseball. Arroyo is in the second year of a three-year $35 million contract extension. Something had to give, and it wasn’t going to be pitching. Even Arroyo admits he does these concert gigs as a lark.
“This time of year it’s hard for me to play and write,” he said. “Holding a pick and a pen for years and years has made my fingers go numb. Once the season gets going it’s hard for me to throw a breaking ball, and it’s hard for me to have command. I can play without [the pick]. I don’t know what it is, but over the years it’s not as bad, but it still does something to me. I feel like I have a tourniquet on my arm. It’s weird, man.”
Representatives of the Southern Mississippi administration and the school’s band went to the hotel where the Kansas State team is headquartered on Thursday and apologized to Angel Rodriguez and coach Frank Martin for a racially-charged chant directed at Rodriguez during K-State’s 70-64 win over Southern Miss. Rodriguez accepted the apology.
“Yeah, I heard it. I heard it when I was shooting the free throw,” Rodriguez said Friday. “ I don’t pay attention to that nonsense, especially because Puerto Rico is a commonwealth, so we don’t need (any) type of papers.
“Their athletic director and the personnel from their school came to apologize. I accepted it because there’s ignorant people and I know that’s not how they want to represent their university. I moved on already. I got a game to focus on.”
“Let me applaud the administration of Southern Mississippi . . . Their administration made it a point to come to our hotel and look Angel in the eye,” Martin said. “Two of them were Southern Miss grads, and said ‘ Angel, as a Southern Miss grad, I apologize.’ For a grown man to do that to a young man, that’s a lot of class. I’m extremely thankful for the way they stood up.”
Howard shunned convention, went against the advice of his agent and did something completely unorthodox: After months of wavering and waffling, hip-hopping and flip-flopping, he did something professional athletes rarely do these days: He did what was best for the Magic and not for himself. He stayed because he couldn’t bear to leave.
With ESPN insiders and the national media throwing a hissy fit because Dwight had the audacity not to go to New York or L.A., Howard became an instant hometown hero in Orlando. He became the anti-LeBron.
LeBron made “The Decision.”
Dwight made “The Right Decision.”
Unless, of course, you listened to the reaction across the country. Miami Heat star Dwyane Wade even mocked Dwight’s decision on Twitter.
The Clackamas County incident began when Randolph, 30, threw a Willamette River cruise party for nearly 100 guests on the Portland Spirit tour boat. Beasley was invited because his good friend, Cameron C. Cox, 29, served as live-in caretaker for Randolph’s five-acre estate and 5,321-square-foot home on Southwest Turner Road.
While on the cruise, Beasley, who grows medical marijuana, told Randolph he had a small amount he could sell and was invited to an “after party,” where about 20 people gathered at Randolph’s home, police reported. But when Beasley offered Randolph a half-ounce for $120 Randolph balked, Beasley told police, saying it was too expensive.
Beasley told police he didn’t think Randolph would object to the higher-than-normal price because of his “millionaire status.”
“That is when Zach ‘aggressively’ snatched the marijuana out of James’ hands and yelled to other people at the house to get him (James) out of the house,” reports said.
Beasley told deputies that “six or seven” men who were “body-guarding” Randolph then surrounded him and hustled him outside, punching and kicking him. At least one hit him with the butt end of a pool cue, leaving him in a bloody heap on the front porch.
Two friends drove Beasley home, and the next day, after suffering nausea and headaches, he was treated at Adventist Medical Center. Beasley’s mother, Shigeko Beasley, called police, who obtained a warrant to search Randolph’s home.
Once inside, deputies found Randolph in bed with a woman and ordered both to “show me your hands.” The woman complied, but Randolph continued to hold his hands behind his pillow and under the covers until one of the deputies, concerned they were heading into a physical confrontation, pointed his handgun at Randolph, reports say.
In the ensuing hours of interviews, two women — one a flight attendant — gave police false names. All those present denied any knowledge of drugs, despite the strong smell of marijuana in the air, or knowledge of the beating.
Marbury’s twitter account might provide me with easy content, but stuff like this is totally taking food out of Marc Berman’s mouth. Going to further lengths to describe the exit of Knicks head coach Mike D’Antoni, the New York Post’s Peter Vecsey claims PG Jeremy Lin, “became both D’Antoni’s savior and executioner.” (“He saved his job and that seemingly cost the coach who flip-flopped between Melo and Lin as focal ‘points’ before settling on the learning-on-the-job playmaker.”)
“Melo is not an ancillary player!” accentuated an NBA head coach. “If he’s not going to be the man then you better have a better man on the firing line. Lin is a good player and will have a decent career, but having Melo off in the corner waiting to get involved is appalling.”
Not coincidentally, the Knicks were 2-8 (before last night’s game with the Blazers) since Melo returned from the injury. Sunday’s home horror show against the Sixers — coming out apathetic twice from the locker room — appeared to be the last scarlet letter on D’Antoni’s sweater.
That said, James Dolan should never be let off the hook for contaminating last season’s aromatic atmosphere. Having cultivated an Isiah-like crush on Anthony, he had no qualms about undermining Stoudemire’s exemplary leadership and exquisite production.
An uninsured player, mind you, Dolan frivolously paid $45 million extra to outbid the Suns, whose celebrated medical staff had cautioned owner Robert Sarver to offer no more than three years due to knee and back concerns. This is year two and Stoudemire already is noticeably not the specimen he was last season.