Hey, if you’re a good-looking, exceedingly well-informed person with great taste like me, I don’t have to tell you that Saturday night in Austin features an usually heavy slate of cultural highlights. For starters, one of the nation’s best bands, the Hex Dispensers celebrate the long-awaited release of their 3rd album with an instore set at South 1st Street’s End Of An Ear Records. Shortly afterwards, the very trusting and not-at-worried about apocalyptic possibilities folks at Transmission Entertainment have booked a twin-bill of Houston’s Geto Boys followed by Destruction Unit (sadly not on the same stage simultaneously)
That oughta be enough for one night, right? THINK AGAIN, FOX 7 WEATHERMAN SCOTT FISHER. Arguably the pick for Saturday night if not the entire month of June is the duo of percussionist extraordinaire Kid Millions (Oneida) and saxophone terror Jim Sauter (one third of the terminally blistering Borbetomagus). The pair are playing the Salvage Vanguard Theatre as part of this weekend’s NMASS Festival, but the event also marks the release of their excellent new cassette on Nathan Cross’ Astral Spirits label. If it’s nearly as good as their 2014 LP on Family Vineyard, well, why are we even trying to quantify this? Who do you think I am, Nate Silver? If the above samples haven’t already convinced you to blow off some or all of Saturday’s other offerings, there’s no hope for you or me. Or at least one of us. SHOW UP OR GET BLOWED UP.
For the past 30 years, Tony Erba has been a fixture in Cleveland punk, most prominently with the late great Gordon Solie Motherfuckers but with a dizzying array of bands before and after. Up until this point, no one has suggested that Erba was a crucial component in Dan Gilbert desperate drive for an NBA Championship, and well, no one really is saying that in any seriousness this time either. The Cleveland Plain Dealer’s Chuck Yarborough, however, insists that Erba and Cavs PG Matt Dellavedova, “could be one of those ‘separated at birth’ pairs”.
Cavaliers point guard Matt Dellavedova has emerged as the Aussie who has captured Cleveland’s heart with his scrappy play and gutsy, never-give-in performance.
At least he claims he’s from Australia, and has a pretty good Down Under accent to back it up. But he’s also got a twin in Cleveland – punk rocker Tony Erba. Soooo, you make the call!
Both attack their chosen professions with a don’t-quit vengeance. Delly is on his way to what we hope is the city’s first professional sports title since the Browns in 1964 (not counting soccer’s Cleveland Crunch back in the ’90s). And Erba, an aficionado of old-school professional wrestling (he once broke a beer bottle over his own head during a show and performed with blood streaming down his face) attacks his bass and microphone in his band Fuck You Pay Me with the same fervor as Delly goes after a loose ball.
Persons like myself who had the misfortune of tuning into Sirius/XM’s flagship sports talk program, Chris Russo’s “Mad Dog Unleashed”, heard the former WFAN host speaking at length about Richard Matt and David Sweat, a pair of convicted murders who escaped last week from Upstate New York’s Clinton Correctional Facility. Russo, overwhelmed by the story’s apparent similarities to “The Shawshank Redemption” (or as the Mad Dog shortens it, “Shawshawnk”) even took a lengthy call from a retired FBI investigator to discuss the case, then further calls from listeners with their own unique insights into the penal system.
As you know, as much as I enjoy giving Russo a hard time, I cannot honestly say his laser-like focus on this topic is taking valuable time away from other sporting matters. For starters, there’s no such thing as valuable time on “Mad Dog Unleashed”, not compared to frequent updates on the Russo children’s progress in myriad pee wee basketball leagues. And let’s be serious, what else could possibly be happening in sports these days that’s worthy of commentary and debate? The NBA Finals? The Stanley Cup Finals? The first Triple Crown winner in 37 years? The Mets, Yankees and Russo’s beloved Giants all in contention? The ongoing FIFA scandal?
It’s been far to long since I’ve updated CSTB’s Bidding War Alert, and while School Girl might lack the fresh faced party vibes of say, Intensity, I’m pretty sure their unique hybrid of Larry Lifeless-like vocals combined with the sort of sub-Zappa noodling that would rival Legion Of Rock Stars are enough to single-handedly revitalize a dying music industry. Better them than Residual Kid, anyway.
I’ve heard rumors of the US Bombs booking shows in the southeast. I came across this contact as the possible contact for booking the US Bombs? Hoping I’m right! Wondering if they will be anywhere near northern Alabama? I’m in a punk rock band full of skaters, and we just played a show with Total Chaos at an awesome DIY basement venue in Huntsville, AL. Was wondering if the US Bombs would be interested in anything in northern Alabama? Thanks so much for your time and sorry if this is the completey wrong contact. -(NAME REDACTED)
Given current investigations into corruption at the highest levels of FIFA, perhaps last week was not the greatest moment to open a $29 million feature length dramatic film about world soccer’s governing body (one the Los Angeles Times reports took in all of $600 at the U.S. box office last week). Despite (?) an all-star cast of Gerard Dépardieu, Tim Roth, Sam Neill and Fisher Stevens (ok, there’s 3 stars already), The Guardian’s Jordan Hoffman suggests “United Passions” probably won’t find an audience on VOD or Blu-Ray, calling it “as cinema it is excrement” (“less a movie than preposterous self-hagiography, more appropriate for Scientology or the Rev Sun Myung Moon”).
João Havelange (Sam Neill) is presented as a master of realpolitik. There are implications of corruption under his regime, but he was wise and warm-hearted enough to recognise that Latin America, Asia and Africa were the future of soccer. “We’ve done more for black people than all the UN resolutions!” he bellows, without a hint of irony. He also makes a key hire: Switzerland’s Sepp Blatter (Tim Roth). Welcoming Blatter to his first boardroom meeting Havelange wryly notes “he is apparently good at finding money”.
The stretch of the film in which we’re to groove on “Blatter doin’ work” is, and I swear I’m not making this up, a series of meetings in which he lands big-ticket sponsorship deals. The camera dwells lovingly on a trunk full of Adidas products. The big “we did it” is a phone call Blatter makes to Havelange (in his private pool overlooking the ocean), announcing interest from Coca-Cola. None of this is done through a Mad Men-like lens. This is pure corporate pamphleteering. The final act concerns virtuous Blatter winning a re-election despite having “enemies” elsewhere on the board. Did I say corporate pamphleteering? More like Stalinist propaganda.
The following item does not come from Hard Times The Onion. Incredibly, it seems there’s an eating establishment in Cambridge, MA that’s managed not only to survive, but actually thrive despite the open display of a large poster featuring Jeremy Piven. As the Boston Globe’s Allison Pohle explains, a promotional poster for syndicated re-runs of HBO’s “Entourage” on local UHF outlet Channel. 38 (home of the amazing “Ask The Manager” decades ago) has prominently occupied a display case at India Castle for five years, and no one seems to know what to do about it.
Decorated with the kinds of intricate and colorful paintings you typically find in an Indian eatery, the restaurant has one piece of art that doesn’t seem to belong — an old Entourage poster. The ad, which shows Vince Chase and his crew “bro-ing” out over some drinks, is locked in a silver frame behind the host stand.
When questioned by a reporter about the poster’s origins, Singh, who was standing behind the bar, denied having a poster in the restaurant. He said he had no idea what Entourage was.
He then walked around to the front of the restaurant to take a look, and put his hands on his hips.
“Oh this?” he said. “This has been here forever.”
Singh said the poster has been locked in the frame, which is bolted to the wall, for years. He said a representative from a local TV station made him a deal — let us come change the poster in the box every two weeks, and we’ll pay you. Singh said he can’t remember how much he was supposed to be paid because the representative put the Entourage poster in and never came back.
“The box used to light up and it doesn’t anymore, but I can’t get it out,” he said. “I guess it’s stuck.”
Singh has never watched an episode of the show and doesn’t plan on seeing the movie, which came out Wednesday.
In defense of NY Mets 6th starter Dillon Gee, it’s totally believable he had no idea he’d been seen as a supporter of Everytown For Gun Safety. He probably thought those blank orange shirts were the latest alternate duds he and his teammates would be forced to wear. Sure, they look terrible, but they’re no more garish than the hideous camo uniforms the Mets have already donned this season.
With all due respect to Derrick Coleman, John Franco, Curt Schilling and Michael Beasley, I’m pretty sure Dom DeLuise and Julian’s Auctions are preparing for the Mother Of All Garage Sales (link courtesy Don Smith) :
The collection includes memorabilia, costume jewelry, and a vast collection of fine art and furnishings from the famous actor, comedian, and author who was beloved by legions of fans worldwide. The auction will also feature items from his wife, Carol Arthur DeLuise, and his sons Peter, Michael, and David DeLuise.
Fine art highlights included in this epic collection include: Ara Dona portrait of Dom DeLuise, a seascape by Noel Coward, a Hirschfeld original pen and ink portrait of DeLuise, and a large painting by Scottish artist Alexander Goudie. Dom’s wife Carol and his son Michael DeLuise also have several fine pieces of art featured in the auction.
Other highlights in the auction include: a grand piano said to have been owned by Vincent Price, a set of cookware given to DeLuise by his good friend Anne Bancroft, wife of Mel Brooks, an extensive set of tableware pictured in DeLuise’s cookbooks, the set of original Derek Carter illustrations from one of DeLuise’s children’s books, a ladies’ Rolex watch, and many other pieces of jewelry and ephemera from such friends as Burt Reynolds, Frank and Barbara Sinatra, and Phyllis Diller.
Arsenal’s Jack Wilshere marked Sunday’s FA Cup celebration parade by taunting North London rivals Tottenham (above), an episode that led to a public apology Monday and some measure of grumbling about poor sportsmanship. In the view of the Guardian’s Toby Moses, such protests are a little over the top (“having spent years hearing from all and sundry about the crying shame that all the characters have gone out of the sport, and how media training is taking the personality out of football, it seems a bit rich to be greeted with a sea of frothing disapproval at a few fruity words”).
The stupid thing about all of the fuss is that it’s unlikely Tottenham fans would take any great offence. They get at least 180 minutes a season to hurl whatever abuse (within the realms of the law) they choose at Wilshere on the pitch. He takes it. Nobody kicks up a fuss. I’m sure they can take a little back. And if not, well then perhaps football fans need to take a good long look at themselves and ask what it is they really want. Do they really appreciate the bland platitudes that are usually to be found spilling from footballers’ mouths, or would they actually prefer someone who may say something worth listening to?
And that’s not to say what Wilshere was coming out with contained any fascinating gems. But a culture which castigates a bit of harmless teasing – with some football-appropriate swearing thrown in for good measure – is surely one which makes it impossible for any player to risk saying anything worth taking an interest in. It’s a culture created by an oversensitive media, and perhaps public too, that is all too ready to make a mountain out of a molehill, leaving little if any space for anything to be said that might upset.
The New York Post’s Marc Berman reports Monday the WNBA has convened a sextet of league execs to determine if sex pest Isiah Thomas ought to be allowed to claim an ownership stake in James Dolan’s New York Liberty. Berman, like others before him, floats the notion Dolan might well pull the plug on the franchise if the league fails to enable his seemingly endless love affair with Thomas :
James Dolan is the last original owner in the WNBA and there’s reason to believe he could be done with the Liberty if the WNBA rejects Thomas’ ownership interest. Dolan is losing money on the team as attendance has sagged.
The members of the committee convened for the first time Monday and include: Chicago owner Michael Alter, Connecticut CEO Mitchell Etess, Seattle owner Ginny Gilder, Minnesota vice president Roger Griffith and Washington president Rick Pych.
Thomas has vehemently stated he never sexually harassed Sanders and claims the jury didn’t find him guilty of that charge.
After a slow start, the Washington Nationals have overtaken the New York Mets in the NL East and you might be excused if you’d thought the key to their ascent was the ridiculous offensive production of OF Bryce Harper. Actually, as the Washington Post’s James Wagner (sort of) explains, the crucial component in Washington’s rise has been IF Dan Uggla (above), he of the Mendoza Line batting average and zeal for touching & caressing his teammates :
“He’s just a big bicep teddy bear,” reliever Aaron Barrett said. After a grin and laugh, Barrett continued: “The hugs are fantastic. I love it. It’s very comforting.”
If you look closely in or near the dugout, there’s a common routine that unfolds after a Nationals home run: Uggla finds the player and gives a big hug. After Danny Espinosa smashed his sixth home run of the season Wednesday in Chicago, Uggla — the man whom Espinosa replaced in the eighth inning — gave Espinosa a big embrace in the cramped Wrigley Field dugout.
“Some guys grew up huggers; some grew up with handshakes,” Uggla said recently. “We hugged in my family. That’s who I am. It’s always funny to me when I hug someone, and I can tell right away that they didn’t grow up hugging in their family. Nothing wrong with it. It’s not an awkward hug. I get on them about it, too. Nothing weird going on. Just hugging another grown man.”
FIFA’s 2015 Congress opened Thursday amidst Swiss and U.S. authorities making up for eons of lost time by maybe-finally-probably exposing soccer’s governing body for the corrupt, corpulent money-printing enterprise everyone knows it to be anyway. While Jack Warner blames a Zionist conspiracy, the Guardian’s Barney Ronay considers The State Of Sepp Blatter, with the latter left to weather “a rare storm in the 17-year history an extraordinarily bold, extraordinarily successful, cult of presidential personality” (“there is, unexpectedly, an actual election to be fought, possibly even an unexpected moment of crisis”).
It is hard, even after all these years, to get a handle on Blatter. There is a theory that, while he may be the dictatorial leader of a furiously corrupt sporting fiefdom, he is himself not that way inclined. Blatter isn’t in it for the money (of which he has vast amounts nonetheless). He’s in it for the kicks, the power, the oddly sensual cultish devotion. Hence his ability to stay clean by proxy, the lack of trail to his door. The FBI case will test this to the full. But here anyway, Blatter did manage to appear disappointed, humbled, saddened by the revelation – who knew! – of apparently vast corruption within the organisation he has moulded to his own image over the last 30 years.
“Dear friends … the events of yesterday … a long shadow over football,” Blatter went on, stressing several times that it was a “tiny minority” on the take. And this is certainly an interesting point of view. Not least when you consider the top table at last year’s Fifa congress, from which two of his own lieutenants were absent from the Hallenstadion, in police custody while Julio “Don Julio” Grondona, the most intimately connected with the dirty TV and marketing deals and a right-hand man in the Argentinian military junta of the late 1970s, has since died.
If this really is a minority, it’s hiding within plain sight of the president. What happens now will be fascinating. The suspicion that Blatter has this in hand, that a little purge now and then is no bad thing, has receded. This is a proper fight. Although quite what football might end up with remains to be seen.
The above clipping is from the Rockford Register-Republic, circa April 1964, and was republished earlier today by SABR’s Chuck Hildenbrant (link culled from Baseball Think Factory), who adds this was not the only suggestion the American Broadcasting Company had up their sleeve :
Undaunted, ABC did not stop there with the out-of-the-box ideas. They believed other sports could benefit from dramatic changes, too, such as professional golfers competing with each other on a season-long points system administered by the PGA; the USOC holding regional Olympic competitions to better prepare the nation for the actual quadrennial event; and college football doing away with the bowl system and replacing it with a March Madness-style playoff instead. As you can see, not all their ideas were total clunkers.
Sunday’s arrest has exposed the chairman either as a disingenuous owner who talks about character and knowingly goes the other way, or as someone who is as naïve as a puppy.
Asked at the time of the signing if he had tried to get the accuser’s version of events in the sexual-assault case, McCaskey did not endear himself to women.
“An alleged victim, I think — much like anybody else who has a bias in this situation — there’s a certain amount of discounting in what they have to say,’’ he said. “But our personnel department had done its work looking into the background and the incidents. And we had the benefit of two coaches who had been with him with the 49ers.’’
One of those coaches was new Bears defensive coordinator Vic Fangio. What do you expect from a football coach? The chairman of a billion-dollar business should know better
Chances are pretty good the Atlanta Hawks are on their way to being swept in the 2015 Eastern Conference Finals, and considering a banged up LeBron James is getting it done sans the services of Kevin Love and Kyrie Irving, that’s no small feat. I’ve yet to hear anyone suggest the Hawks would be making it more of a series if G Thabo Sefolosha wasn’t recovering from a broken leg, but The Nation’s Dave Zirin asks the reasonable question why the cause of Sefolosha’s injury isn’t a bigger talking point during these playoffs (“this represents a timidity that takes a story which could act as a lens toward educating people about a national crisis and consigns it to the dustbin”)
This near-silence has been across the sports media landscape, so it feels churlish to pick on one example, but it was both too high-profile and too evocative to ignore. On Thursday morning, Mike Greenberg, hosting ESPN’s national Mike and Mike radio show, talked about how the Hawks could possibly be able to guard LeBron without Carroll, and mentioned Thabo’s absence as well. In describing for his audience why Thabo isn’t playing, all Mike Greenberg said was, “We all know what happened there.” That was it. No mention of the NYPD, the conflicting stories, or the fact that NBA players have gone out of their way to speak about police mistreatment. Just “We all know what happened there.” Actually, we don’t all know what happened there, and that’s the point. Instead of retelling or even illuminating what we know, this line was dead on arrival. And yet “we all know what happened there” were six words more than most sports media offered this past week. Even the notably outspoken TNT team of Ernie Johnson, Kenny Smith, Shaquille O’Neal, and Charles Barkley had nothing to say about it on Inside the NBA, broadcast immediately after the Hawks lost to Cleveland and in the aftermath of Carroll’s injury. Yes, given Shaq’s history as a volunteer police officer and Barkley’s own comments about the Black Lives Matter movement, it might not have exactly been a rousing call for social justice, but to not even mention it was bizarre. Even Marv Albert discussed Sefolosha briefly during the broadcast. But to the TNT studio team, he was the invisible man.