Do you require a figurative wallop to your genitalia in order to close out the week? This might do it.
These futures lines were taken from the MGM Grand in Vegas by yours truly, on the 18th of January, 2009. I'd like to believe (and The Driver would tell you) that the Chargers at 10-1 look mighty tasty right now. But I don't know -- it's hard for me to trust a head coach who wears an octogenarian's knee-highs around his neck (and let's not get into his challenge/time management issues).
That isn't a reference to my feelings on tomorrow's game -- in fact, I'm quite looking forward to it.
My issue is with the large majority of Canadian coverage that's taking place, both in traditional media and online. The Canadian media has this incessant need to tie everything back to our country, because they assume that's the only way readers will be interested in the stories. "Hey look, this DB played for the B.C. Lions in '98! Let's ask him about the three months he spent there!" For Christ's sakes, enough already. Ask them if they've had violent sleepwalking dreams where they throttled the opposition's QB, and ended up kicking the crap out of a houseplant. Ask them if they think anyone's going to pull a Eugene Robinson the night before -- they don't have to name names.
Then there's this.The Globe and Mail sent down two writers who are co-authoring a Super Bowl blog. The above link offers a "description" of a Super Bowl bash. Here's my favourite part:
The answers to those and other fascinating questions were revealed during last night’s media party at Gulfstream Racetrack where the premises was dotted by women dressed in jockey uniforms. Just not like jockey uniforms like you’ve ever seen before – as in three-inch spiked heals (sic), short skirts and tight tops.
"Heals"? That isn't going to do much for the perception that male sportswriters are the antithesis of Tom Brady/Brad Pitt/Whatever man is hot enough to make all women ignore everyone else in the room. If you can't spell it, my guess is you haven't seen enough of them.
I also don't understand what's up with that bare bones description. There are no photos on the blog -- aren't writers supposed to paint a picture with words? I mean, I'm cognizant enough to realize that my audience is between 95-98% male. Tell me that the chick's legs are longer than a John Madden run-on sentence. Say that you didn't know where to look, because your interview subject's nipples were pointing to first and third. That's what I would have done...I'm comfortable enough in my sexuality to do that for my audience.
Anyway, there's more on the above blog if you want to check it out -- including hilarious tales about forgetting your co-worker's room number after you've gone out to pick up some beer. Sigh.
On the other hand, if you want to read some legitimately interesting and funny Super Bowl blogs that will provide a better snapshot of the week's festivities, I highly suggest checking out these ones from Deadspin and Bill Simmons. Simmons' radio row day was a particularly good read, and Deadspin's tomfoolery with ESPN is utterly classic. Check them out if you haven't already.
Want to guess who New England Patriots' QB Tom Brady has rebounded with? Scoreboard, Dimpled Chin. The only way Bridget Moynahan is going to top this is with a Brangelina threesome. One thing though: If this is true, why the hell is Gisele mounting Peyton's alabaster mascot (in the nude, no less)? The least she could do is smack its ass a few times, just to show she means business. Bloody turncoat trollop. We only wish the Patriots were playing Denver this week, because we'd be bleeding the Elway jokes for all they were worth.
...because Gary Bettman's schedule makers need to shake themselves.
I received a number of text messages over this weekend -- most asking if I was attending the Senators games versus New Jersey and Philly respectively. Pfft...cynics, please. As if I was going to sacrifice NFL wild-card weekend for some run-of-the-mill Eastern Conference matchups. That being said, I succumbed to a comforter-induced coma during two of the four games (KC-Indy and NE-Jets), and woke up 90 seconds before the fourth quarter ended. Lesson learned, I guess. But a side note here -- I was rummaging through the back of my closet and came across a Jeff Garcia San Fran jersey that I picked up years ago in NoCal. I was thinking to myself -- "For years, it would've been lunacy to wear this. 10 to 1 says I see someone sporting one today at the game."
And I did -- they stuck out like sore thumbs, but they were wearing 49ers jerseys, all emblazoned with No. 5. You don't see that happen in the NHL. Like when Alexandre Daigle decided to allow people mention his name again without doing a spit take (during the year before the lockout when he put up 51 points with the Wild), you didn't see Ottawa fans busting out Peace Tower sweaters at the Xcel Energy Center.
(Aside -- Yes, I own football jerseys, but I don't wear them in public...except for when Denver plays in the Super Bowl -- then I break out the special Elway one. But something tells me I'll be won't be wearing that one for a while. Unless I decide to get married in it, of course.)
As for the games themselves, all I have to say is this: I led that Tony Romo backlash bandwagon for a reason, and now the damned thing is longer than the Orient Express. Also, somewhere, possibly above the 49th parallel, there's a hammered kicker who skated off with a 2.5 million dollar signing bonus that's laughing his ass off.
I was going to write a piece about the possibility of Ray Emery going to the All-Star game, but at the time, I thought it might be premature. I'm glad to see that someone did, however. Overall, I have mixed feelings on the matter. I believe that Ray deserves to go, and it would please me immensely to see him selected. On the other hand, I worry about his overall health, and the idea of letting him out of the Sens' sight, even for a weekend worries me. (Remember what happened when we let another goaltender go and play somewhere else at almost the same time, last year?) Obviously the Sens have to play the role of the cool, nonchalant girlfriend if it comes down to it. ("Yeah sweetie, go have fun with the boys!" Meanwhile said chick is praying their guy isn't involved with anything that entails riding hammered on a golf cart, all slutted up with three strippers/humiliating florescent pink cocktails and condom wrappers caught in the wheel wells. Dallas is bad enough -- imagine if it were in Tampa? By the way, how much cash would you pony up to hear John Muckler call Ray, "sweetie"? If I were lit enough, I might break out a red bill. Mucks will be tossing down $2 million and uttering every syrupy moniker in the book to get Emery to stay this summer if he keeps it up. Mark my words.)
In short, the All-Star game (in spite of its lack of seriousness), is like letting Ray attend a three-day bachelor party, and we're the spastic brides-to-be. If he's selected, have to we let him go and hope nothing horrible happens -- although it's tempting to pull an Eva Longoria on our Tony Parker. Remember who the backup goaltender is...and that's right -- Gerber's the backup! The second someone of significance admits it, I swear to God I'm going to cackle with glee -- kind of like Robert Knepper's character on Prison Break.
(And that'll be the first and last time I compare my behaviour to T-Bag's.)
And finally...
Whose country is it? Remind me again, TSN! Bill Simmons has tackled these annoying Chevrolet commercials in his columns (you can find a refresher below -- God help you if you need it), but now there's a Canadian version. Essentially all they did was swap out the photos of Rosa Parks and Martin Luther King Jr. for some stock footage of snow, and vintage shots of Bobby Orr. (Honestly, aren't those the only big differences between our two nations?) My favourite part of the Canadian version displays a man holding a sleeping baby, with the tagline, "Our Purpose." I'm so relieved to discover that my objective as a Canadian is now clear. I'm either supposed to be: a) sleeping b) procreating or c) drooling uncontrollably on someone's shoulder. Why are American car companies trying to turn me into Britney Spears?
Posts
