If anyone at Falcons training camp LOVES TO LAUGH, they might wanna watch this during today’s lunch.
If anyone at Falcons training camp LOVES TO LAUGH, they might wanna watch this during today’s lunch.
(with all due disrespect to Charlie Sheen and Matthew Perry, the therapy-comedy was mastered a while ago)
NBC premiered the latest star vehicle for Matthew Perry — aka This Generation’s McLean Stevenson — earlier this evening, with the Tampa Bay Times Eric Deegans warning “Go On” might be a ratings stiff because the comedy’s endless Olympics promos, “are a) not particularly clever and b) so ubiquitous they’ve left some viewers — okay THIS viewer — feeling exhausted with the shows before they even hit the airwaves.” And then there’s the small matter of the show sucking.
The series features Perry playing the cynical quippy version of himself we’ve seen in most every other role he’s taken — this time as sports radio host Ryan King, a workaholic struggling to deal with the death of his wife. Sounds sidesplitting so far, don’t it?
But his boss, played by Star Trek/Harold and Kumar alum John Cho, insists King attend 10 sessions at a therapy group before he can return to work, prompting the quippy host to unleash the Perry magic. When the therapy leader shows up late to his first session, King gets his new, super-dysfunctional pals to rate their problems in a twisted, NCAA-style bracket of pain, upsetting the future love interest/Type A controlling therapy leader.
The pilot is a predictable, if well-made adventure — zipping through the set up of King’s problem and his resistance to the therapy with a speed required for today’s attention-challenged TV audience. But Perry is essentially playing the same, self-centered, nice-guy-struggling-to-show-it character he embodied in ABC’s failed comedy Mr. Sunshine — another game effort that struggled to connect with viewers.
The extra pathos of Go On may solve that problem for Perry and NBC. But if the audience is so tired of seeing the show’s snarky one-liners plastered all over Olympics coverage, it may not matter much.
Unlike the Deuce’s Peepland, W. 33rd St.’s defunct Peep World sex emporium will never be the (roundabout) subject of a song by an very unpopular rock band, but plans to reconfigure the space as a Hooter’s have raised the ire of Jeremiah of Jeremiah’s Vanishing New York. “This swap, with all of its cruel irony,” muses the author, “encapsulates the city’s cultural colon cleanse.”
Peep World was a nasty place for adults. It was raw and dirty and funky, like the city used to be. It wasn’t an airbrushed sexcapade for tired, middle-aged frat boys to get their kicks during “family time” after a game of golf.
Peep World was New York. It wasn’t Tampa or Dallas or Knoxville. It wasn’t a bland international chain.
And I’ll tell you something else–at Peep World, you could find all kinds of sex: straight, gay, transgender, plus every brand of kink. It was an all-inclusive smut experience. Hooters, on the other hand, sells one flavor of sex: vanilla. And does New York City really need more vanilla?
Famed composer Marvin Hamlish shuffled off this mortal coil Monday at the age of 68, and while the Academy Award winner will be remembered by most sane persons for his role in the careers of Barbara Streisand and Liza Minelli, I’m instead gonna recall Marv as an unlikely thorn in the side of the philandering Steve Garvey. In August of 1986, Garvey’s estranged wife, Cyndy, told People Magazine’s James Grant of her “long distance relationship” with Hamlisch, as well as burying her first baseman ex with some very believable details.
My first real clue was when I tried to find Steve to help me sell our home. This was back in January 1982. And he was on a ski trip. So I called his office to speak to his secretary, and she was on a ski trip too. The seed was planted. Soon after that, I sold the house on my own, and I was clearing it out and I was crying. My housekeeper said, “Go to the office.” So I did.
I saw enough. I saw their lives on the walls. The two of them. There was nothing of me. There were directors’ chairs with their names on them. There was a fold-out bed. And then I saw her. She was sitting there. And she ran out of the office. I wouldn’t have known it was her, but she was so obvious. I’ve blocked it out, but I remember she had dark hair, and she was bigger than me. So I walked over to her desk, and I read the five-year planner there. I just started going backwards and saw “Stevie”—I never called him Stevie. “Stevie and me skiing, Stevie and me/new car, Stevie and me dinner.”
It was a crushing experience. And when I confronted Steve about how long this had been going on, at first he wouldn’t answer me. Then he said—I’m serious—it had started out that she was like his sister, and I said, “You don’t —— your sister.” He didn’t have any sisters. It was just all too rich. You see, I never went to the office. When you’re married to a guy like Steve, he does a lot of public things, and the phone was constantly ringing at home. So he got one of his charities to fund an office. I had no need to go there. I just didn’t know that the office, which was a quarter-mile from home, would be used for other purposes.
As for me, the humiliation never left. Just a few months ago I was at a local shop with my children, and the shopkeeper said, “Mrs. Garvey, you forgot your change.” I turned around, and a man was coming toward me I had never seen before. He said, “So you’re the bitch that left Steve Garvey.” I don’t think it was right that I took the rap for the breakup of our marriage. I want my girls to see me stand up for myself, now. And then let it go.
Mike Polk Jr., not inclined to turn a blind eye to an especially patronizing, dopey sales pitch on the part of the Tribe’s marketing department.
While the sale of Bleacher Report to Turner for something in the neighborhood of $200 million was tipped several weeks ago, now that the transaction has come to fruition, the New York Times’ Richard Sandomir is content to highlight the press release without tackling any of the thorny ethical issues that have plagued the content farm since inception.
“We’ve looked at it for the past three years, just watching it grow, and in the last two years doubling its unique users, which was a telltale sign that I felt it would be a great part of our organization,” said David Levy, the president of Turner Sports. According to comScore, the Web measurement service, Bleacher Report’s monthly unique users have grown from 5.6 million to 10.1 million since 2010, ninth among sports sites.
“They’ve established a position in the smartphone and tablet areas,” Mr. Levy said, “and their coverage of team sports truly attracted us. I saw nothing like this in the marketplace.”
Turner will also use its sportscasters, like Charles Barkley and Cal Ripken, to help Bleacher Report.
The site’s content is written primarily by about 2,000 passionate fans, most of whom do not have journalistic training or attend games. They all must be approved to write for the site and receive training and evaluations. Recently, it has added about 25 writers with traditional journalistic credentials.
(Bonds, shown in 2007, leading a professional Eddie Vedder impersonator to Pac Bell security)
Telling long-time confidant Barry M. Bloom (the
Marc Berman Ahmad Rashad to his Stephon Marbury Michael Jordan) that “if you vote on your assumptions or what you believe or what you think might have been going on there, that’s your problem,” Barry Bonds seems fairly certain he won’t be elected to baseball’s Hall Of Fame in his first year of eligibility. And while Bonds insists his failure to find gainful employment in 2008, “shouldn’t have ended that way”, he does show the tiniest hint of regret over what he claims was a carefully constructed persona. From MLB.com (link courtesy Repoz and Baseball Think Factory)
MLB.com: Anything you would have done differently?
Bonds: As far as handling the media, I would have done a lot of things differently. The character I created on the field was a different person than the way I was off the field. It was that person that made me perform. It gave me the push to perform. Whether you hated me or loved me, you came to see that person or that show. And with the media, I needed space. When the first thing that happens after you get to the clubhouse every day is questions about the chase or how you feel, I’ll admit it now that it was hard for me to deal with and I could’ve done it a lot better. That’s a lot for one individual. You’re going to snap. It’s hard when you have to do that every day for 162 days. Add Spring Training. It would be tough for anyone.
MLB.com: What are your thoughts on how the Clemens trial wound up?
Bonds: I was overwhelmed with happiness for Roger. Very happy. Roger is a great athlete and a great pitcher. I think Roger Clemens is telling the truth, and I don’t care what anyone else thinks. He’s acquitted. Now everyone leave him alone, let him be. He went through the system just as I did and he deserves respect and forgiveness and move on. We have sacrificed our lives and bodies for this game. We have beat our bodies up for something that we love to do. OK? They accused him. They accuse whoever. Who cares? He was acquitted. He deserves the same rights everyone else does. And he deserves the same respect he’s always had. I love him. He was one of the greatest pitchers I’ve ever faced. He’s always been a good friend of mine. I will go to the end of the earth for that man.
MLB.com: And what about your legal situation?
Bonds: Mine is on appeal for obstruction of justice. So what? I have to say I’m a felon of obstruction of justice because that is my title. That is it and hopefully (the 9th Circuit Court of Appeals) will see the light and overturn it. And if they don’t, I will accept what my punishment was and will have to move on. But I would like for those same people to respect me in the same fashion. I went through that system just like a lot of people have done. I fought for what I thought was right. I got a conviction for obstruction of justice. What that means, I don’t understand it. But it is what it is. I accept it. And that’s the end of it.
…before you verbally abuse an accused racist. OK, I’m paraphrasing a bit, but mindful of the poor reception afforded Uruguay’s Luis Suárez — accused last year of racially abusing Manchester United’s Patrice Evra — the Guardian’s Amy Lawrence suggests, “there is a time and a place for sporting rivalries to get sulphurous – and for many football fans that is a vital part of the attraction and the drama – but this isn’t really it.”
Suárez himself, and his defenders, appeared to be slightly more cheesed off than they may normally be to hear the flak he can expect to absorb from opposing fans at any Liverpool match. Sebastián Coates, his team-mate for club and country, felt compelled to argue: “It has gone too far,” and urged the public to give it a rest.
That may well be wishful thinking once the domestic season begins again, as villains are not easily recast in football, but he is not wrong to feel aggrieved that British antipathy towards Suárez (outside the red half of Liverpool) has followed him into an environment that is, on the whole, almost entirely welcoming of all competitors.
Here was another example of why some people feel uncomfortable with the notion of a sport as “professional” as football, with its colossal status and enormous popularity, and its prizes that are regarded as more valuable than Olympic medals, being included in the Games. The environment of top-level men’s football, for all its allure as well as its ills, really is a different beast to its Olympic counterpart.
(when no one can locate the tablature to “Journey To The Center Of The Mind”, some guys are just left to their own devices)
Recently cleared by the Secret Service as a potential threat to our nation’s Commander In Chief, former Amboy Duke Ted Nugent continues to weigh in on matters political and otherwise in a pre-gig discussion with Broward-Palm Beach New Times’ Jose Flores who calls the guitarist, “a musical hero that has no equal”. Y’hear that, Bill Orcutt? TAKE A SEAT.
What is the state of rock ‘n’ roll now?
Due the indefatigable celebration of killer music by me and my band, Sammy Hagar, Chicken Foot, Aerosmith, Cheap Trick, ZZ Top, Van Halen, Styx, REO, Journey, Kid Rock, AC-DC, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Dave Grohl and his bands, and so many honest to God soulful musicians carrying on, the best music in the world is alive and well. As far as new bands go, I’m afraid I cannot name any that thrill me, but confidence roils eternal.
If Romney were a rock band, what band would that be? Obama?
Out and out politicians are anathema to rock-n-roll, so I hesitate to attempt to connect the two. But on important issues, I am saddened to admit that Obama represents everything bad about humanity and Romney pretty much all that is good. It is really that stark.
Claiming that a prior sub from none other than Queen Elizabeth II (!) might’ve motivated a victory Crip Walk after taking her first Women’s Singles gold medal at the London Olympics Saturday (“I bet in a private moment Friday night or Saturday morning, Serena told her sister Venus, ‘I’m going to kick this $*%& ass and Crip Walk all over this crusty-ass place’”), Fox Sports’ Jason Whitlock calls Serena Williams’ celebration, “immature and classless”. Surely not as bad as Mark Madsen, though.
Over the weekend we were reminded that white former NBA player Brent Barry Crip Walked during the 2003 NBA All-Star 3-point contest without provoking controversy or criticism. Some clown at the Washington Post absolved Serena by pointing out the now-traditional, pre-Olympics torch relay was Hitler’s invention during the 1936 Berlin Games. And, of course, you had your usual number of white journalists who covered Serena’s gold-medal thumping of Maria Sharapova who simply pretended they had no clue what Serena’s celebratory jig was (presumably because they lost Internet access and missed the Twitter explosion caused by her dance).
Serena deserved to be criticized and she should’ve immediately apologized. Wimbledon isn’t the place to break out a dance popularized by California Crip gang members. She knows it. That’s why she got embarrassed when asked by reporters to reveal the name of the dance.
Crip Walking inside an NBA arena that is routinely filled with the sounds of edited versions of popular gangsta rap songs is different from Crip Walking at Wimbledon. That fact has nothing to do with race. It has to do with tradition and atmosphere. Wimbledon is a sports church, falsely prim, proper and respectful.
(because I’m allergic to traffic, here’s a photo of Mike Miller)
Perhaps when Ozzie Guillen professed his admiration for Castro, he meant someone other than Fidel? Xbiz.com’s Bob Johnson reports that after the duo of Sara Jay and’Angelina Castro promised earlier this to perform oral sex on their Twitter followers if Miami won the NBA Championship, on Thursday the pair made good on their guarantee, an occasion Johnson claims required “clearing legal hurdles from the NBA”. Not to question the journalistic integrity of Xbiz.com, but I’m pretty sure you can blow whoever you want without David Stern’s approval.
One of the participants, Cody, said, “Meeting Sara Jay, who is one of my top five favorite adult film stars of all time and Angelina Castro who I can never stop watching… is so worth every second of it.
“I wouldn’t trade this experience for anything even if I knew that there would be keyboard warriors out there trolling about me. I would do it again, in a heartbeat. Sara Jay and Angelina Castro made it so much easier on all of us they treated us like we were people they knew for a long time.”
Jay commented, “No one thought we would do even one BJ for our twitter followers. I am glad we proved all the doubters wrong. We didn’t come close to breaking the world record for oral sex in a day but maybe next time now that people know #TeamBJ isn’t a joke.”
Castro said, “Anyone who thinks a Cuban wasn’t prepared to get down on her knees in the name of capitalism and the Miami Heat was wrong. Thanks to all the fans on Twitter who supported the event and made it so much fun.”
USC head football coach Lane Kiffin (above) is only a couple of years removed from being burned in effigy on the University Of Tennessee campus. Southern Cal is coming off a postseason ban and a reduction in scholarships due to transgressions during the Pete Carroll/Reggie Bush era, but if you were expecting Kiffin to show much humility in a chat with the LA Times’ T.J. Simers, you’ve not followed his career. “I was reading a story that said we had the most returning starters and getting Silas Redd from Penn State then we shouldn’t even play the games,” Kiffin laughs. “Just hand us the trophy.”
“I know there’s that expectation out there; it started as soon as Matt Barkley came back. But hey, if you don’t want pressure, don’t want expectations, don’t sign Silas Redd.”
“Hey Kif,” a group of players shout out as they walk by, as if he’s one of their fraternity brothers.
“Can you imagine some of Nick Saban’s players yelling, ‘Sabe,’” he says with a wave, and keep in mind the tough-edged Saban is Kiffin’s coaching idol.
“I couldn’t sit while waiting to sign him (Redd) and I still can’t,” he says, while knocking down rumors USC took a scholarship away from a walk-on to give to Redd. “This is so cool. It’s so different; usually you sign a kid and wait seven months to get him. This is like signing a veteran free agent in [pro] football.”
Before Kiffin recruited Redd, he went to Athletic Director Pat Haden, who talked to school President Max Nikias. The NCAA had already made it clear it only wanted the best for Penn State’s athletes by freeing them to explore all opportunities.
Two years ago if this happens he’s vilified, now only mildly criticized for poaching. But that’s how far he’s come in terms of respectability.
Buffalo Bisons manager Wally Backman was hit with a 3-game suspension today for his Friday night confrontation with Syracuse counterpart Tony Beasley. Speaking after Buffalo’s 13-7 win, Wally seems to suggest there’s something basically un-American about taking a peak at pitch locations, so I can only assume there’s someone on the Syracuse roster who’s visited Canada at one point or another.
August 4, 2012 – Slugger Jose Canseco’s first game with the North American Baseball League’s Rio Grande Valley WhiteWings has been delayed due to a family emergency.
Originally scheduled to play today in the WhiteWings’ 7:05 p.m. game with Al Gallagher’s McAllen Thunder, Canseco is now scheduled to arrive in Harlingen on Monday, August 6 and play his first home game in Rio Grande Valley on Thursday, August 9 when the WhiteWings host Doc Edwards’ San Angelo Colts at 7:05 p.m.
Fans who purchased tickets for tonight’s game are reminded of the WhiteWings’ “no bad ticket” policy, where their tickets can be exchanged for any game remaining on the WhiteWings’ home schedule, which lasts until Monday, Sept. 3.
Tonight’s game features Rio Grande Valley ace Celson Polanco (7-4), who leads the United Division with a 2.14 earned run average, pitching against veteran lefthander Frank James (5-5) at 7:05 p.m.
Jose’s late arrival means a Sunday afternoon press conference at Colletti’s Restaurant is either postponed or cancelled. I don’t know if Colletti’s has a “no bad press conferences featuring muscle-bound whistleblowers” policy, and it’s just as well if they don’t. Opportunities like this only come by a few times a year.
Pregame hijinx at Great American Ballpark, folks, as the Reds’ Bronson Arroyo finds time to bro’ down with
the only person alive who thinks Todd Zeile is cool thespian Charlie Sheen. The latter’s baseball credentials are impeccable — for instance, he’s physically assaulted more women than Brett Myers, and as such, he’s forever granted VIP treatment at MLB facilities.
(EDITOR’S NOTE : rarely does a morning at CSTB HQ pass without a couple of spammy solicitations from various Yardbarker-wannabes, Casino gambling purveyors or some bot claiming to be a big fan of the site (and would we like to publish their article about erectile dysfunction for a small fee). All of that said, none of the creeps and scam artists who’ve approached to date have come up with a scheme nearly this condescending or doomed to failure. So without further ado, here’s the biggest boost for verbose Walter Shittys this side of the Connecticut School Of Broadcasting – GC)
I hope this finds you well. I read some of your recent articles on Can’t Stop the Bleeding and wanted to reach out to you based on the strength and quality of your writing.
I am part of a new website, www.letmehearya.com, that aims to change the way fans watch live sports. We seek to give every fan, writer, and aspiring broadcaster the opportunity to broadcast their own live commentary of sporting events, instead of viewers having to listen to the network commentators. I think based on your writing that you would make a great broadcaster on our platform. You will have the ability to broadcast any game you want across the major sports leagues. You can go to www.letmehearya.com and simply sign-up for a profile to begin broadcasting today.
Please let me know if you have any questions at all about LetMeHearYa and the procedure for broadcasting, and I look forward to hopefully listening to one of your broadcasts soon!
Curiously, Let Me Hear Ya’s terms of service agreement forbids broadcasts that, “infringe on the intellectual property or other legal rights of LetMeHearYa or others”. Given that live play-by-play or analysis would almost certainly be considered the intellectual property of Major League Baseball, I’m not anticipating a long life for for Mr. Kramer’s site. Unless, of course, they sell the idea to MLB Advanced Media.
Hands up, every who reckoned the Cubs jettisoning Reed Johnson or Geovanny Soto earlier this week would’ve earned a half-dozen or can’t-miss prospects. Showing the sort of patience usually reserved for persons who didn’t understand why there wasn’t a federal surplus by the end of 2009, Chicago broadcasting fixture / anti-semite Chet Coppock seems to believe Cubs GM Theo Epstein could’ve done far better at the July 31 trade deadline. (link swiped from Repoz, Baseball Think Factory)
I’ve got a message for Theo, your honeymoon is beyond over. It crashed and burned on July 31 when you and your pals changed a team that figures to lose about 98 games before this season runs out, into a quagmire that will have to play with sledgehammers in 2013 to avoid losing 105 games.
Uh Theo, I noticed that Alfonso is still on Tom Ricketts’ payroll. It’s also dawned on me that the departures of Ryan Dempster, Geovanny Soto, Paul Maholm and Reed Johonson didn’t exactly return the kind of nucleus that screams “1927 New York Yankees”.
Epstein-baby, the honeymoon is so far gone it just passed Santa Fe, New Mexico. You fumbled. There is no other way to explain the lack of punch you brought to the deadline.
You guys are no longer A-list material. You’re baseball people who will likely to go to Arizona with a pitching rotation that reads, Jeff Samardzja and “call us next Tuesday”.
Al Jazeera’s purchase of U.S. broadcast rights for Spanish football’s La Liga and Italy’s Serie cause a bit of a stir a few months back, along with speculation American rights to the English Premier League might be their next target. The New York Post’s Phil Mushnick, follows a warning ESPN NY has every intention of outbidding WFAN for Mets radio rights next season, with a reminder to his not-so-cosmopolitan readership that Al-Jazeera is “owned by the fabulously oil-rich country of Qatar.”
To feed its new beIN sports network, Al Jazeera has been hurling barrels of money for rights to the world’s biggest soccer leagues, and it’s eager to buy into all sports — here, there and everywhere.
In order to enter the U.S. market, Al Jazeera, an international rights specialist this week told us, is willing to pay cable operators to clear beIN. In other words, Al Jazeera doesn’t want to be paid by operators, to make room for its sports goods it’ll pay them!
“The players here for big league soccer — Fox, ESPN — are being blown away by Al Jazeera,” the specialist said. “Remember, they’re not competing against a corporation, but a government, and one with more money than it can spend.”
Qatar, despite its blistering heat and inaccessibility, in 2010 won 2022 World Cup soccer rights because it made an offer that drained the senses of FIFA. Governed by Sunni Islamic law, Qatar also is known for systemic repression of women.
Would big league U.S. teams or leagues sell Al Jazeera some or all of its TV rights?
“There would be political issues. And there’s a competitive advantage to a bidder that’s not a company but a country,” the specialist said. “ Yet, where money can talk, money talks. It already has.”
Get it, “barrels of money”? Y’know, if Phil can earn a paycheck reporting old news and reciting basic facts, who says I can’t do the same? For instance, did you know that NFL, MLB, NASCAR, EPL and NCAA football rights are partially held by Fox, a division of NewsCorp., a global concern whose chairman has long sought to influence politicians on both sides of the Atlantic, sometimes through nefarious means? Or that this same corporation — ie. one that employs Phil Mushnick — takes a considerably partisan approach to covering American politics, often in support of a party seeking to enforce systemic repression of women.
Phil would have you believe Qatar is “inaccessible”. How accessible is New York or Los Angeles to someone in Saudi Arabia? You can reach Qatar from Moscow by plane in four and a half hours (two and a half hours from Cairo). As for the blistering heat, it’ll be 105 degrees in Qatar tomorrow. Conversely, it was an incredibly comfortable 102 degrees last night when the Rangers hosted the Angels, a game that took a mere 4 hours to complete (roughly twice the length of a soccer match). If you’re waiting for the New York Post to weigh in on whether or not Arlington, TX is an appropriate place to play Major League Baseball, you might have to wait a little while. At least until Nolan Ryan sells the club to someone of middle eastern descent.
In which the former Ugandan Giant, James “Kamala” Harris, claims Wrestler’s Rescue isn’t rescuing him in the slightest.
Earlier this season, you’d have been excused for calling the Texas Rangers GM Jon Daniels a doofus for not having locked up OF Josh Hamilton contractually. Fast forward to the start of August however, and Hamilton’s all messed up at the plate, being criticized by his owner, has his manager making vague allusions “issues” that are not “physical”, and the good people of Baseball Think Factory are placing bets whether or not the recidivist superstar is coping with trying to quit chewing tobacco or is simply a sex addict.
I have no insights whatsoever into Hamilton’s character or real life, therefor I feel perfectly qualified to float the following possibilities, ie. WHAT’S EATING JOSH HAMILTON?
1) He’s the only American upset “The Killing” isn’t coming back for a third season.
2) Hamilton would desperately like to publicly support Chick-Fil-A’s stance against gay marriage…but their chicken simply isn’t very goood.
3) COULDN’T UNDERSTAND A FUCKIN’ WORD BANE SAID
4) Signed up for Big Brother, Big Sister of Dallas. Was assigned Dez Bryant.
And that’s all I’ve got. But they’re all preferable to the sex thing.
(EDITOR’S NOTE : with today’s news that the Dodgers have designated OF Bobby Abreu for assignment, you might think this a proper occasion to reflect on the 16-year MLB vet’s storied career. In which case, perhaps you’d like to start your own fucking blog? Without further ado, from July 6, 2007, here’s a CSTB post entitled, “We Have No Reason To Believe Michael Kay Placed The Following Advertisement”)
Looking for a ‘Bobby Abreu type’ ass – 30 (Upper East Side)
Looking for a Bobby Abreu (best outfielder in MLB!) butt double to perform some world-class rear oral service. I want to meet you and give you the best rear oral attention you’ve ever had. NSA. I’m in good shape, good looking, laid back, discreet, drug & disease free, bi, masculine, have a hurricane tongue and serious. Just have a BA ass and leave the rest to me. Straight athletic/muscular Venezuelan men are first choice. Let’s have some fun.
Much has been written this morning about For Myers Miracle “music intern”, Derek Dye, 21, being ejected during last night’s 2-1 loss to the Daytona Cubs after playing a snippet of “Three Blind Mice” over the Jackie Robinson Ballpark after a disputed call. As the Daytona Beach News-Journal’s Sean Kearnan, points out, this wasn’t a particularly original way to get tossed. Surely we’ve progressed as a culture to the point where the next time umpires get it totally wrong, some enterprising A/V dept. nerd can whip out one of the Angry Samoans’ classics?
(Michael and Magic, losing their shit over Laettner’s terrible version of “Slack Motherfucker” during the postgame karaoke party)
Long accustomed to grinding his teeth while Dirk Nowitzki takes his lumps in international competition, Mavs owner Mark Cuban has long opined that sending NBA talent to their respective national sides is foolishly risky. No doubt fearing for the welfare of the Thunder’s Kevin Durant or Russell Westbrook, the Oklahoman’s Barry Tramel echoes Cuban’s sentiments, adding, that outside of such international contests, “you rarely hear of offseason injuries in the NBA.” Tell that one to Monta Ellis or the late Bison Dele!
A major injury to LeBron or Durant or any player of that caliber would be catastrophic for a franchise. The Miami Heat lost money in its championship season. The Thunder will be treading water to stay financially sound as it pays its young stars. Organizations have committed unspeakable amounts of money to these players now wearing the red, white and navy blue.
To incur such a calamity in the name of goodwill and some kind of athletic patriotism is asking a bit much. The NBA is big business. Every decision concerning personnel is big; every decision concerns risk/reward.
Playing for your country is a noble thing, I suppose, though the whole concept is a little silly in basketball. There’s not any question which nation produces the best hoops. Olympic basketball is either a beauty pageant (Dream Team, maybe this 2012 squad), some kind of social experiment on whether superstars can get along or a referendum on putting together a roster, which the Americans miserably failed in 2004.
Amazing that we’re less than a month removed from mass coverage of the 1992 Dream Team’s 20th Anniversary, and guys like Tramel fail to recognize that squad’s most important legacy. No, not beating Angola by 70, but the way that star-studded (and Christian Laettner) roster inspired kids from all over the globe to pick up a basketball. The NBA’s talent pool from outside the U.S. has absolutely exploded over the past two decades ; Barcelona ’92 had just a little bit to do with that explosion. Perhaps the same thing can happen with a mooted hoops World Cup, but I don’t believe it is a stretch to say the NBA’s Olympic involvement is less about patriotism and more to do with (good) business.
Dan Shaughnessy’s latest Boston Globe column begins with some not-quite-revelatory observations about Red Sox starter/punk Josh Beckett (“a pariah oathed more than LeBron James, Albert Haynesworth, and the Sedin twins. He is the poster boy for chicken and beer, the man who got Tito fired, and the guy who plays 18 holes when he’s too hurt to take his turn in the rotation. He’s the stubborn Texan who’ll never give us the satisfaction of an explanation. He is a guy who gets booed when he comes out of a game with an injury”), but concludes with a bizarre aside regarding manager Bobby Valentine. To hear the CHB tell the tale, the big thing keeping Boston fans from embracing Valentine was the skipper’s prior reluctance to publicly embrace…Dan Shaughnessy!
Late Tuesday afternoon, as I stood near the dugout with a Comcast microphone in my hand, Bobby came up from behind me, looked over my left shoulder into the camera and exclaimed, “It’s not true! I’m not trying to get fired, folks. It’s not true, it’s not true! It was all made up by him! It’s not true.’’
It was TV gold. John McNamara hated me more than Vicente Padilla hates Mark Teixeira and he never did anything like that.
Bobby is flexing his muscles. This is good. He got thrown out of the finale in New York. Tuesday night he took Ryan Sweeney to task for punching a door and fracturing a knuckle.
“It comes under knowing the difference between right and wrong,’’ Valentine said.
Good. Stick up for Beckett. Brag about the contribution of Mortensen, who came up from the minors for a day to rescue Beckett. But defend yourself against the media and call out your players when they deserve it. Fans will embrace this version of Bobby Valentine. And if the Sox can string together a few more wins, fans will be happy to hop aboard the Magic Ciriaco Bus.
(image taken from SF Photorama)
“Though their imperial rolls are exquisite,” SFist’s Brock Keeling calls 6th & Market’s venerable Tu Lan Vietnamese, “a dank shit hole wrapped in rice paper and wafting piss fumes”. It’s also one of the great cheap eating experiences in Northern California or anywhere else, but the SOMA fixture’s very existence is threatened this week by the overzealous food-gestapo calling themselves the San Francisco Health Department. From the San Francisco Chronicle’s Craig Lee :
Health department inspectors found that Tu Lan, the famous and sometimes infamous establishment nestled in the gritty Sixth Street neighborhood south of Market Street, stored food at improper temperatures, didn’t have proper hand-washing stations, was crawling with cockroaches and mice and wasn’t bleaching its cleaning cloths.
Hungry customers calling for $5 lunch takeout Monday instead reached an answering machine message that said the restaurant had closed for a month and asked them to call back after Aug. 20 for an update.
A notice of violation dated Friday was taped to the front of the restaurant and said that Tu Lan’s permit had been suspended due to “serious or repeated” health violations and that the restaurant was closed until further notice.
Health-violation shutdowns are old news at Tu Lan, said Stephanie Cushing, a city health inspector. Tu Lan was shut down for a day or two at a time in January 2011, September 2011, April 2012 and on Friday.
Each time, inspectors found different combinations of the same health violations, including live mice and cockroaches in the cooking areas, standing water in the kitchen, improper refrigeration and unsanitary food handling.
“They had eggs sitting out for three days, four days,” Cushing said. Workers “weren’t washing their hands – they were scratching themselves and handling food.”