Tuesday, April 28, 2009

Oh, My Lord God


For your entertainment and edification Everybody now (courtesy Wonkettepresents the new Florida "vanity" license plate.

I don't know quite what to say except I believe –by law – that you have to nail it to the back of your truck instead of using screws, but I can't be sure.

As for the thorny church and state separation thingy, FL Gov Charlie "Jesus H." Crist said, and Everybody quotes, "If they don’t want one they don’t have to buy one."

Hit a tree, hit a ditch, License Plate Jesus, He don't bitch...

The best comment Everybody has seen on this so far (again, courtesy Wonkette) is this:

2goats says at 3:20 pm, April 28th, 2009

You think that’s Jesus? Doesn’t say it’s Jesus. Could be a crown a’thorns, but could be a scrunchie. No First Amendment problem here. Move along...

Now, as long as I’m borrowing stealing from Wonkette, they ran an item over the weekend that laid me out.  It turns out that Texas Gov Rick “Good Hair” Perry, a week or so after seceding from the Union to form the “Peoples Republic of Texas”, asked the Centers for Disease Control for 37,000 doses of antiviral drugs to combat the Swine Flu.  Again, we’ll give you the best comments we saw:

Bearbloke says at 11:40 pm, April 25th, 2009 - Reply

Now is NOT THE TIME to waste valuable American assets on unstable foreign nations like The Holy Sovereign Christian Republic of Texistan - besides, aren’t all those folks down there believers in snake-handling and faith-healing? Let ‘em call Benny Hinn!


populucious says at 12:53 am, April 26th, 2009- Reply

I’m sorry where did you say you were calling from…TEX-AS? Um, I’m sorry I don’t see TEX-AS on our list of recognized states. Are you sure you sent in your annual renewal form? Oh, I see, you DIDN’T send it in? But you were hoping you were still covered? Yeah…oh-kay…sure I see why you’d want to check on that but I’m afraid we can’t help…You guys are pretty close to Mexico, right? I hear they have pretty good drugs over there…maybe they can…oh, I see, you’re not speaking to Mexico. Well, I’m so sorry I couldn’t help you today Mr..uh..Perry. Buh-bye.

And, uh, we’ll say buh-bye for now, too.

Monday, April 27, 2009

Let's Go Live to Rich Kincaide...

We are back from today's bug-zapping adventure and the good news is that I survived with flying colors, whatever that means.

The bad news is that the procedure failed to correct the problem and that's a pisser. Is it shitfuck or fuckshit? I can never remember.

We'll try a few other things now to get this thing fixed, but I am told it may be six months before I can undergo a procedure -- a radio frequency ablation -- which will take care of it once and for all.

That means I'm going to be tired for the next few months. Damn. But not too tired to write, so maybe I can spend the time to crank out another book. That's the plan, I think.

Your kind thoughts meant so much to Jeannie and me. I thank you all. I'm going to go take a little nap, now, but I'll be back with you soon...

Sunday, April 26, 2009

Life or Death Decision

McMurphy: They was giving me ten thousand watts a day, you know, and I'm hot to trot! The next woman takes me on's gonna light up like a pinball machine and pay off in silver dollars!
One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest

I don't know how many watts they'll be giving me tomorrow, but they are going to give me some. My cold, hard heart has been beating out of rhythm for nine or ten days now so I'm going to the hospital in the morning where they are going to put electric paddles on my sternum, yell "clear", (you've all seen this on "ER") and shock the damn thing back into normal ( or, sinus) rhythm. They'll knock me out with a sedative first and when I wake up I'll be all better, not to mention the paying off in silver dollars thing. I've had this procedure before, so not to worry, I'll be back on the ice playing hockey on Friday. An interesting after-effect is that there will be a puck-sized circular burn mark on my back. That electricity goes right through ya...

Unless I die. This is apparently a possibility inasmuch as the first question they asked me last week at a pre-procedure appointment was, "Do you have a Living Will?"

Since I don't, I talked it over with Jeannie and we (okay, I) decided that if I wind up brain dead --I know, how are they gonna be able to tell, right? -- I don't care how much it costs the insurance company, I want to be kept alive. Sure, I'll look like I'm suffering what with the tossing and the turning and all, but what the hell, I'm brain-dead. How will I know if I'm suffering? It's not like I'm going to care. Besides, they've got all this stem cell research going on now. Eventually they're going to come up with a way to bring my brain stem back to life. And then it's payback time, baby. Take, for example, my daughter who has a surprisingly smart mouth which I have no idea whatsoever where she got it from. When she gets mad at me, which is essentially the same thing as saying, "every day", she tells me that her mother is going to wind up in the good nursing home and I'll be stuck in the one with the sub-standard care. The one with the crummy food and the black-and-white TV, etc. Ha, baby. If this things works out right, guess who's going to be putting who in a nursing home?

Anyway, I better put my affairs in order. So, I am sorry if I pissed off Seattle Dan and Tammy for saying Robert Creamer sucks over at the Generals place a few weeks ago. I'm actually sorrier about the fact that Creamer sucks than I am about saying he sucks, but I hate that I may have offended the two of them and for that I apologize and heartily recommend Jackson Street Books for all your reading needs. Support your independent bookstore! (I don't know if they stock The Gods of Olympia Stadium, but I'm sure they can find out where to get you a copy. Of course, if you want your copy personalized you should hope I don't die and such.)

To my friend Jay whom I dearly love and who has been pondering the meaning of life and the ways of the human heart and spirit for as long as I have known him which is, frankly, way too goddamn long, here's the deal:

Aw, screw it. I can't get e-blogger to insert a freaking video for me, for crying out loud. Here's the low-tech solution, the URL:

That should set you straight.

Frap. It looks like I'm gonna die, after all. I just saw Jacoby Ellsbury steal home and I've never seen somebody straight out steal home live before and I've been watching ball on TV and in person since '63. Frap. Oh, well. It's been fun.

I'll post up tomorrow (Monday) night and I'll see all you pussies on the ice Friday noon, 'kay?

Wednesday, April 22, 2009

I'm in Love with Elizabeth de la Vega

I heard the most amazing thing on the radio the other morning: Dick Cheney, it was being reported, had 'directed' the CIA to de-classify certain documents which he, Cheney, felt would make demonstrable his opinion that torture --excuse me, "enhanced interrogation" -- had resulted in actionable intelligence for this country in what we used to call The Global War On Terror.

Really, Dick? You directed the CIA to de-classify information? You are even more delusional than I thought, and I think you a madman. You have as much authority over the CIA (or any other agency or agent of the government) as, say, Richard Kincaide. Your ability to "direct" anyone or anything in government to do anything ended at 11:59 am EST on January 20, 2009 and thank God for that!

Meanwhile, Elizabeth de la Vega (isn't that one of the sexiest names you've ever heard?) a former federal prosecutor, has published her thoughts on the prosecution of Cheney and Bush et.al. for their war crimes at Truthout.org. I love her writing. I may be in love with her. I can't say. I've never seen a picture of her. But I can tell you that she has a great legal mind. In her view, the appointment at this time of a special prosecutor in the torture matter would be a grave error:

Yes, Obama's Chief of Staff, Rahm Emmanuel, has now said flatly that there will be no prosecutions of Bush officials, but the reality is that this story is far from over. As former CIA head Michael Hayden said on April 19, more by way of complaint than promise: "There will be more revelations. There will be more commissions. There will be more investigations," he said.

This statement may be one of the few Hayden has ever made that I can agree with. The truth is that - frustrating and appalling as it is - given the amount of damning information that's been revealed, we are just starting this process. If we are to have any hope of achieving some form of justice for these criminals and their victims, we must let the horror of the conduct and the extent of culpability reveal themselves in public view. And we must facilitate a narrowing of the focus so that specific defendants and charges can be clearly identified in the minds of not just the general public, but decision-makers at the Justice Department.

What we continue to need, in sum, are unwavering spotlights, even more civic education, and, most importantly, an irrefutable and cohesive factual narrative - comprised of direct and circumstantial evidence - that links the highest-level officials and advisers of the Bush administration, ineluctably, to specific instances and victims of torture. What we will surely have, however, if a special prosecutor is named, will be precisely the opposite: The initiation of a federal grand jury investigation right now would be roughly the equivalent of ceremoniously dumping the entire issue of torture into a black hole. There will be nothing to see and we will be listening intently to radio silence, trying to make sense of intermittent static in the form of the occasional unreliable leak. For years. There may never be any charges and we will almost certainly never have the unimpeachable historical narrative that we need.

Caution and complexity don't sell very well on cable, I know. So you might not hear it there, but we can wait a while for a prosecutor and - if we want to succeed - we should: I don't think any of these guys presents a flight risk and we need to keep this road to accountability well-lit and noisy.

I reccomend the full peice by Ms. de la Vega to Everybody.

The news today is that Cheney tortured not merely to prevent another mass-casualty attack on America, but rather to obtain "proof" of a link between al queda and Iraq. What a lying bastard. What a murderer. I'm with Ms. de la Vega. We can wait for the wheels of justice to turn on this one. The wait will be worth it.

Friday, April 17, 2009

For My Bride

My life changed forever for the better 16 years ago this morning. It was on this date in 1993 that I became the luckiest man on the face of the earth when my Jeannie--in spite of my having screwing up the vows a little (yes, she's still bitter about it; "Why do you think we had a rehearsal?" she says)--took me to be her wedded husband: To have and to hold, in sickness and in health, until death do us part...

We had the best wedding, ever.

I remember sharing a hotel suite with my best man the night before, sitting up till the wee hours too excited to sleep, talking about what it was going to mean to me to have a wife. I remember it was snowing when we woke up, one of those mid-April snow showers where it looks like a blizzard but it doesn't even stick to the ground. By the time we arrived at the church an hour or so prior to the 11 a.m. service, that snow had changed to drizzle. When we left the church it was cloudy and during our reception it turned sunny. I thought it was perfect: an analogy in meteorology to what our life together would be.

I remember the prelude music on the church organ. Jeannie tells me I picked out all the songs, so I must have but the only two I remember are now are "Oh What a Beautiful Morning" from "Oklahoma" ( I know, show tunes, right? Was this a gay wedding, or what?) and The Naval Hymn. With lyrics like, "Lord hear us when we pray to Thee for those in peril on the sea," it might not sound to you like an appropriate song to play at a wedding, but I like the tune so there.

I remember us taking the picture of me trying to escape out the back door of the church being restrained by my groomsmen (required) and I remember taking a gulp of hooch out of a hip flask. But only one (also required). My boys, led by my (still) Best Man Dave took good care of me. Real good care. We'd had fun the day before getting the marriage license and picking up the tuxes and finding out once we arrived at the rehearsal dinner that Old Country Buffet--I know, a bit extravagant but nothing but the best for our family and wedding party--did not accept credit cards and we didn't have enough cash on hand until we pre-opened somebody's generously cash-filled wedding envelope to us. (As I side note, I've never forgotten how good people were to us when we got married. So generous. And whenever I use one of those gifts, such as the Gene and Marie Healy Waffle Iron, I always think of Gene and Marie and, obliquely at least, of our wedding day).

The thing I remember most was standing at the altar with my decked out crew and seeing Jeannie walking down the aisle towards me. She was so beautiful. I don't know how else to say it. She was perfect! So lovely. If there hadn't been a church full of people there and if my knees hadn't been shaking so, there's no telling what I might have done with her right then and there I'll tell you what.

I remember feeling that God was right there in the room with us. Hence, the shaking of the knees and the blown line in the vows while I was placing the ring on her finger. Jeannie's a stickler. Or maybe she didn't want me getting off on a technicality. But, when I forgot to say something I was supposed to have said, she asked Pastor Fox who had come out of retirement to marry us, just another special thing about our special day, "Isn't he supposed to say something here?" Pastor Fox sort of waved her off and we continued and I'm pretty sure it still counted.

Then we had a great brunch reception and had everybody on their way by two o'clock or so and we were off to our riverfront room at the Windsor Hilton and that's all I'm going to tell you because it was our wedding night and, well, you know. It sure was fun, though.

So, now I hear that you don't think I care about our anniversary. Oh, my darling. I am so sorry. The time a couple of years ago when I gave you the impression that I did not attach the appropriate importance to our day was a dreadful mistake. It was my fault. But it's not true.

I will tell the world today what I told that church full of our family and friends 16 years ago this morning: This is the day my life began. I have loved you with my whole heart every single day of these last 16 years and I will love you with my whole heart and with all of my being right up until the day you come to your senses and kill me with a frying pan. You gave me Laura and that is the greatest gift anybody could give anybody else. I love you. I always will. I am the luckiest husband in the world.

Wednesday, April 15, 2009


We are very sorry that it turned out this way, but this picture (see image at left) turned out to be the best picture we saw all day yesterday, National Teabagging Day.

We found it at Teablogging.net

This may be the best single site for Teabagging coverage anywhere on-line. It even includes a helpful FAQ section which we reprint for you here without permission but with a strong recommendation that you take a moment a drop by...

What is Teabagging?

We’re not sure exactly. Well, there’s that definition. But in the context of the Tax Day Tea Parties, Teabagging seems to allude to an amorphous set of conservative, libertarian, rationalist and vaguely anarchist sentiments held by Fox News et al. If you have a more concrete definition of Teabagging, please, let us know.

Why “Teablogging”?

Because you have to teabag the conservatives before they teabag you.

How’d this all get started?

See, back in February, after American Capitalism had been utterly destroyed by four whole weeks of the Soviet Obama Administration, some guy named Rick who nobody had ever heard of went on scion of business journalism CNBC and sort of lost his shit. Somewhere in the midst of the sweating, frothing, and arm-waving, Rick mentioned the Boston Tea Party, and a movement was born.


Yes, really.

So should we go to these Tea Parties, or what?

You can. Huffington Post is looking for Tea Party Reporters. Or, if you’re one of the handful of Productive American Capitalists who’s fortunate enough to be still be employed, you could go to your job that day. If not, just get drunk at home, alone, as usual.

Who is behind Teablogging.net?

Well, the jokes pretty much write themselves here, but the site was created by notorious attention whore and known liberal @StephanieInCA of Urbzen.com. Other contributors and affiliates are listed on the TITs page.

Where can I learn more about Teabagging?

Teabagging purists would encourage you to read Ayn Rand’s insanely drawn-out screed novel Atlas Shrugged, but you can also just go see Watchmen, which is basically the same thing, but shorter and featuring a giant electric blue penis.

Death and Taxes

I've been asked why I sometimes call people like this "stupid" and "idiotic" and I would like to respond. It is because I insist on being precise in my use of language.

That said, I want all you teabaggers out there to remember two things: Firstly, you didn't say a goddamn word when George W. Bush (and, by the way, conveniently hid the multi-trillion dollar cost of the Iraq while so doing) took us from the biggest surplus in US history to the biggest deficit in US history. Secondly, I can't remember what the second thing was. Oh, yeah. You lost. In paraphrase of the words of your leader, the drug-addled gasbag Rush Limbaugh, when you start winning elections you can talk. Until then, shut up! SHUT UP! Ronald Reagan is dead, and soon his policies will be dead, too.

Enough of that.

If you lived in Detroit in the late 1970's and early 1980's, the three biggest radio personalities in town were J.P McCarthy, Dick Purtan and Deano Day. My very first big-time (read: major-market) job was at WCXI in the late 70's and Deano Day was the AM Drive jock. He was big-time. He made more than the rest of the staff put together and probably times two.

Deano died last week. He was 70. I went to his wake yesterday and ran into more than a few people I hadn't thought of in years. Names were brought up of people who were once an integral part of my life but which, with the passing of time, I had forgotten completely.

Stories were told. The one I told involved the time I was filling in for the regular sports guy while he was on vacation and so there I was, a little nervous as I'm on a station with a lot of listeners and I've never done this before and all. I prepared assiduously. I came in early. I must have spent a couple of hours typing up my stories. (In those days you used something called a "typewriter" on a media known as "paper" to prepare items for broadcast.) While I was live on the air reading those stories I had worked so hard on, Uncle Deano reached over with his Bic and, while I was holding them in my hands, set them on fire. If this is not in violation of Federal Communications Commission regulations, I can tell you that it really ought to be. I actually started to read faster in hopes of disseminating the information before it turned into ash. The boys in the studio were hysterical. A couple of days ago when I told her the story, my daughter asked me why I had let Deano do it and I told her that to have not would have ruined the bit. "You don't want to be unprofessional," I said.

We told stories about about a day-long country music concert our station hosted at the Michigan State Fairgrounds where the headliner, one Johnny Paycheck, arrived four hours late and six sheets to the wind. He had to be picked up and carried from the bus to the backstage area and shoved onto the stage where he performed remarkably well all things considered and was then carried back onto the bus never to be heard from again.

We told a lot of great stories. It all served to remind me what a remarkable group of on-air talent I was associated with in those days and how lucky I was, as a very young broadcaster just starting out, to be a part of that group. I learned a lot and I remembered more than I thought I had.

Godspeed, Deano. You were a funny man and you were always good to me. Those hundred or so people who were there for you at the funeral home represented a mere fraction of the people whose lives you touched and who loved you because of it.

Thursday, April 9, 2009

A Proud Moment

A few years ago a subordinate of mine got in trouble for using a company computer to look at pictures of naked women on the Internet. His actions necessitated a meeting with my boss in order to formulate the appropriate punishment for the guy. When I was informed of the nature of the transgression he'd committed, I said to my superior, "I have to be honest with you (name deleted because he's an a-hole), I didn't know you could do anything on the internet except look at porn."

It turns out that there is. You can make friends. It is this that I like best about our new Age of Technology. I now have friends I didn't have before. They are people I have never met in person or even spoken with directly. But, I know they are friends. And good friends at that.

A case in point is the great Chicago attorney Dave von Ebers. Dave is one of the most insightful and well-spoken commentator on the tubes and I recommend his blog, "The Journal of the Plague Year" to Everybody. The link is posted on the right side of this page under the Everybody Wants to Read These Blogs" heading.

Dave made me so proud and touched me deeply a couple of days ago by devoting a post to me and MSU Spartan fans everywhere. You can read it HERE.

In his post, Dave cites an article written by Dave (rhymes with "siren") Ziren, one of my favorite sportswriters. If you think that all sports is about is who won and who got traded, etc., you won't like Ziren at all. If you think there is a context and a connection beteween sports and society at large, you need to read Ziren. And you can, right HERE.

I got in a little hot water after the game Monday night when I read a Faceook post about how by hosting the Final Four Detroit and won the PR Battle and about how we should all "stand up and be proud." That last part, the "stand up" part, is the theme of a campaign being aired by a local TV station. We're all supposed to stand up and be proud of Detroit. It drives me nuts. Jingles aren't going to get us here in Detroit out of the mess we are in. The reality is that we are in big trouble here.

I posted a comment to that effect which the original poster, a member of the organization I lead responded to by calling my comments "reprehensible and embarassing" which I didn't mind, but he then de-friended me on Facebook which I thought was really harsh, dude.

My relationship with sports is complicated and I'll write about that sometime. In the instant case (I throw legalese out there from time to time to impress my lawyers friends like Dave and Jay) the poster said it was wrong of me to speak out the way I did since I'm the president of the Detroit Sports Broadcasters Association.

I wasn't knocking the Final Four or the hard work put in by the organizers or the excellent job they did. And I was not speaking in my official capacity. But, whatever, I am the president of the group so I can understand if people think I don't have the right to speak as a private individual. President Obama doesn't get to speak as a private citizen after all.

My point was, and I think it may have been missed, is simply that we have bigger fish to fry in this town.

I was convinced that I said what I needed to say yesterday when I drove all the way across town from the West side to the East for a dental appointment. The squalor I saw on that trip appalling. From the freeway I saw scores of abandoned buildings. Some burned out. Some boarded up. A lot of the scenery looked like the aftermath of war.

It made me think. If we could re-build Germany and Japan after the devastation wrought by World War II, why can't we rebuild Detroit? We are dying here. We need help. We need to do something. Something more than humming jingles about how proud we are. I look at how we make people live around here and pride is not exactly the emotion which it evokes. I'm sorry, but that's just the way I feel.

Monday, April 6, 2009

Live blogging the Big Game (And in the End)

11:14 Still down by 18 or so in a TV timeout. I remember the title game a year ago. I was listening on a car radio waiting for my wife at the airport. She'd gone to Florida to tend to the affairs of a friend who had died. That means Beth Frumpkin's been gone a year now. Wow.

11:20 This is still the third-greatest team in MSU history, right? Two NCAA Titles and now this team that finishes second in the Tournament. So that's not too bad. I still wished they could have won. They played great basketball in this tournament. They beat two #1 seeds. But UNC is a great team. I bet they cheat when they recruit and stuff.

11:23 I just checked something called Gametracker and it says we're outrebounding UNC 35-31. Hard to believe that's true. Of course, it's also says we've turned it over 19 times and they've turned it over 7 times.

11:26 UNC has made only 7 FG this half. State is to within 13 but under 5 to play. Remember hwo we talked about free throws, that UNC went to the stripe 27 times a game on average? They have 32 free throw attempts tonight.

11:32 3:51 to go and we're down 15. We are going to lose but we are not going to be humiliated, at least. I thought we might lose this thing by 40 the way things were going in the first half. I think State played about as bad as they can play at the start of the game and NC played as good as they can play at the start and that's the difference in this one. We'll stick it out till the end and then call it a night.

11:38 Suton just came off with MSU down 17. Pretty good career for MSU right there. Morgan just fouled out. Down 16 with two and a half left, tough way for it all to end. Hey, the Masters starts Thursday. I can hardly wait. You get all of these Georgia Good Ol Boys and for one weekend a year they show up at a sporting event and they are "patrons". Drunk as they ever were, but for these four days, "patrons." And it's pronounced "The MAH-stirs" by the way by the all-European broadcast team CBS will throw at us. Really. They will have two Americans on the air, tops.

11:45 I suppose President Obama will be calling me in the morning to tease me. He won his bracket, I lost mine. I think we'll lose by less than 20. We do. Final: UNC 89, MSU 72. Confetti flies, streamers, etc. Everybody shakes hands which is nice. Good night from Deroit where I am only a little bitter. UNC is a great team.

Live blogging the Big Game (OMG I Just Want to Die)

10:42 What a day. I gave blood so I feel a little woozy. Yoga was no fun at all as I spent the entire hour twisted into some ungodly position trying (hard) not to fart out loud. We're down 21 at the half and the Tigers got pounded in The Opener. But, the Yankees lost, so, all in all, not a bad day.
10:44 Let's check CC Sabathia's line today for the Yanks in Baltimore, shall we? 6 earned on 8 hits in four and a third. 5 walks, too. Nice.
10:47 An MSU buddy called in from Texas at halftime and he was just mortified. I told him not to worry about it since we were probably the only two guys watching.
10:47 I saw Jud Heathcote sitting in the stands tonight. He was MSU's coach when the Spartans won it all in '79. I covered that team for a local radio station, often watching from on top of the broadcast booth at Jenison Fieldhouse. Great view but I was always a little afraid I was going to fall and die and ruin the game. Jud used to call himself "Julius Heathstrap", but I don't know why. I remember when I was going to State that the entire Varsity except two guys refused to play a game against Indiana. They claimed it was all about racial injustice but if memory serves that was the year Bobby Knight's team went undefeated and I remember thinking that maybe they didn't want to get hammered. Gus Ganakis was the coach and that turned out to be his last year. Jud became Spartan coach prior to the start of the next season.
10:58 I also noticed at the half that democommie was upset about people talking sports on my "Friday Musical Interlude" post of a few days ago. He said he thought it was supposed to be about music and culture. democommioe is so funny. Like I'd have any thoughts re: "culture". Ha, Ha, ha.
10:59 MSU cuts it to 16. Now we got 'em where we want 'em.
11:01 I was watching that 1979 NCAA title game (MSU v. Indiana State and Larry Bird) on the far-see last night and that was fun. A lot of Afro's. Really short basketball shorts, no shot clock and no three point line. Ah, memories.

Live blogging the Big Game (1st Half) 1st Add

9:59 Here's an interesting note about Detroit: It was announced last week that the school district will have to close 50 schools by next fall. Is that amazing? 50 schools closing. They are something like 300 million in the hole, the schools, that is.
10:00 I was hoping Izzo would have something up his sleeve for UNC and if he does he might want to think about breaking it out.
10:01 It's 40-20 UNC with 7:01 left in the first which, at least, has a nice symmetry to it. Big 10 Player of the Year Raymar Morgan is down after an elbow to the face. He already broke his nose in the tournament earlier.
10:09 I broke for a snack. Cubs win! Cubs win! K-Rod get his first save as a Met and they win, too. Congrats, people. Tigers trail 12-5 as they come to bat in the top of the 9th in Toronto.
10:16 I just noticed that since the Tigers had the best record in baseball on July 23, 2007 when they were 59-38 (.609) they have gone 103-125 (.452) since. That's if they lost tonight, that is.
10:18 Ooops. the did. Lost tonight, that is. The Tigers, that is.
10:19 UNC has tied the record (53) for most points in the first half of an NCAA Title game.
10:20 UNC has set the record (55) for most points in the first half of an NCAA Title game.
10:21 I was going to look up the record for biggest halftime lead in title game but now I don't have to. This is it. 21 points as we are down 55-34 at the break. Hey, I just thought of it: Biggest. Comeback. Ever! C'mon...who's with me. Did we give up when the Germans bombed Pearl Harbor? Hell, no!

Live blogging the Big Game (1st Half)

9:42 We're getting killed and e-blogger just ate my last post during which UNC raced to a double-digit lead with all five starters scoring before the first commerical break. They are dominating us at both ends. it's 24-11 with 11:41 left in the first half. We're turning over and they are knocking down shots.
9:44 Well, it's Opening Night for the Tigers. They started Justin Verlander in Toronto tonight because as you know, you want your best pitcher starting The Opener for you. Verlander lost 17 last year. The Tigs were down 9-1 when I checked earlier. Verlander gave up 8 earned on 8 hits in two and two thirds. Nice. Tigers trying to come back, though. Down 9-5 in the 8th.
9:49 We're down by 18. 18!? The first half isn't half over...and now it's twenty, 31-11. We are on pace to be down by 40 at the half. I wish CBS hadn't put up that graphic about how MSU has never lost a Title game. Bad Mojo.
9:51 32-11 UNC with exactly ten to go in the first half. I think UNC is already in the bonus. They had, the Tarheels, 27 FT attempts per game on average and took over 200 more free throws than their opponents this season. Now it's 34-11. Finally Lucas hits a bomb to end to 10-0 UNC run. Summers hits a 3 and MSU is rallying...pulling to within 20. UNC is killing us on the boards. Killing us! They are much too much for MSU.
9:55 Ooops. 11-5 Toronto in the 8th. Commercial break with 7:33 left in the first and it's UNC 38, MSU 18. Yikes...

Live-Blogging the Big Game (pre-game)

9:07 Welcome to Detroit and the NCAA Mens Basketball Championship, the biggest sporting event in this town since Super Bowl Extra Large (XL) was held here a couple of years ago. The venue is Ford Field which was designed as a football stadium but which, since the Detroit Lions calls it home, lacks a football team, per se.
9:09 Interesting Ford Field Fact: A beer at Ford Field costs $8.50. Really. $8.50. I think the .50 is just piling on. Some hot chick is asking the North Carolina why the Tar Babys or whatever the hell they are called won't just kick MSU's ass by 35 points again like they did back in December and he says MSU has Goran Suton back and it's a big game and MSU will rise to the occasion and blah, blah, blah...
9:11 Another Interesting Ford Field Fact: When you go there to cover a football game and you get on the elevator and ask the attendant to take you to the Press Box she presses a button labelled "7". Seriously. You watch from the 7th floor. That way when somebody asks you how the Lions looked, you can honestly answer, "I really couldn't tell."
9:13: Tom Izzo, MSU coach, was just shown giving his pre-game talk to he fellows. He seems to think the Spartans have a chance. Izzo's coaching was what beat U-Con Saturday. MSU scored so many points in transisition in that game after spending the season scoring off a set offense. Izzo ran 'em to death Saturday. I heard Izzo say the other day that UNC averages 7 free throw attempts per game. That's amazing. What it says it to stop 'em you gotta foul 'em.
9:21 Did I mention I'm an actual Spartan? Michigan State is where I went to college...so when I say "us" and "we", I mean it and right now I am telling you that our basketball team can kick your football team's ass!
9:24 Game on!

Fpr All Big Games


Here's the best way to prepare for any big game:

You Will Suffer Humiliation When The Sports Team From My Area Defeats The Sports Team From Your Area

As you can see from the calendar, the game is coming up this weekend. I'm sure you are as excited for it as I am, as our cities are rivals and have been for quite some time. Your confidence in your team is high, but rest assured, you will suffer humiliation when the sports team from my area defeats the sports team from your area.
On numerous occasions, you have expressed the conviction that your area's sports team will be victorious. I must admit that every time I hear you make this proclamation, I react with both laughter and disbelief. "Ha!" I say to myself with laughter. "What?!" I say to myself in disbelief. How could you believe that your sports team could beat my sports team? It is clear that yours is inferior in every way.
When the sporting contest begins, the players on your team will be treated as though they are inconsequential. It will be remarkably easy for my team to accumulate more points than yours. There are many reasons for this, starting with the inferior physical attributes of the players representing your area. Strength, speed, and agility are just three of the qualities that the players on the team from your area lack. The players representing my area, on the other hand, have these traits in abundance.
I would not be a bit surprised if the individuals on the team from your area were sexually attracted to members of their own gender. That is how ineffective they are on the field of battle.
Underscoring your team's inferiority is its choice of colors. It is ludicrous to believe that your team's colors inspire either respect or fear. Instead, they appear to have been chosen by someone who is colorblind or, perhaps, bereft of sight altogether. The colors for my team, on the other hand, are aesthetically pleasing when placed in proximity to one another. They are a superior color combination in every way.
While we are on the subject of aesthetics, let us compare the respective facilities in which our teams play. While my team's edifice is blessed with architectural splendor and the most modern of amenities, yours is a thoroughly unpleasant place in which to watch a sporting contest. I know of what I speak, for I once attended a game between our respective teams in your facility. Let's just say the experience left me wishing that my car was inoperable that day due to mechanical problems, rendering it impossible for me to get to your area to attend the game.
If you need another reason why the sporting franchise representing my area is superior, look no further than the supporters for the two sides. Not only are the supporters of the team from my region more spirited, but they are also more intelligent and of finer breeding than you and the rest of your ilk. In addition, the female supporters of the team from my area possess more attractive countenances and figures than yours. Some of the women from my side that I have observed could make a living by posing for pictures for major men's magazines. The women who cheer for your team, I'm afraid, are far too unattractive to do so.
One of the more pathetic aspects of the team from your area is the fact that only people in your immediate area possess an affinity for it. By means of contrast, the team from my area inspires loyalty and affection in individuals who live in many other geographic locations.
To illustrate this point, let me tell a brief story: Recently, I was on vacation in an area of the country far away from my own, and I saw many individuals wearing items of clothing that bore the insignia of my team. I approached one such individual and asked him if he originated from my area. He said no, explaining that he simply liked the team from my area and had for many years. Interestingly enough, during this trip, I saw no clothing or other paraphernalia bearing the insignia of your team.
Do you still doubt that the team from your area is inferior to the one from mine? Just look at our teams' respective histories. In the past, we have defeated you on any number of occasions. Granted, there were times when your team beat my team, but those were lucky flukes.
The day of the game will soon be at hand. And no matter how hard you pray to a higher power or how many foam accoutrements you wear in support of the team from your area, your team will be defeated. We will win and you will lose. This is your fate.
Prepare for humiliation. It shall be upon you at the designated hour.

Live-Blogging the NCAA Championship Game

We will be Live-Blogging tonight’s Biggest Game Ever starting around 8:45pm EDT.  We’d get started sooner, but I have my first yoga (should that be capitalized?) class tonight.  In spite of this, I doubt I will be very calm.

Just by way of setting the scene, it has snowed today here in Detroit which is good because it keeps visitors to Detroit stuck in their hotel room where they will not be set upon by the zombie hoards who roam the streets at will.  (Seriously, DO NOT go off the beaten path in Detroit.  Shuttle busses, people, shuttle busses!  We do not have the highest or second-highest per-capita murder rate in the country because we haven’t been trying, you know!  It’s 70 times the murder rate in Toronto, by the way.  Yea!  The only difference between Detroit and New Orleans is that musty, mildewey smell.  And we didn’t even need a hurricane to destroy 85% of our city.)

The local TV stations have spent the past couple of days outdoing each other in predicting todays “blizzard”.  For snow predicitions I heard anywhere from 1-3” to 6-8” to Certain Imminent Death.  Just depends on who you want to believe, I guess.  As it stands right now, the snow is covering the grass.  Everything else seems okay.

Tip-off tonight is 9:21pm.  Please make of note of it and we will see you back here this evening.

Live blogging the Big Game (1st Half)

9:25 They gave Suton all day to shoot a 3 and it took it and made it so I hope NC gives us that all night. Green from NC just comes down and pours in a three of his own. Green slices in for a nifty layup and we're down 3-7. MSU turns it over twice and fouls Hansborough. U-Conn missed a boatload of FT's Saturday....Hansborough makes 'em both. 3-9. Finally, UNC turns it over.
9:29 Suton just offered up a brick from ten feet. We're nervous but Raymar Morgan hits from the right wing. UNC comes back and scores and then steals the inbound pass. MSU fouls. Damn UNC is good. 5-12 and we've only played three and a half. We're down 7 and they haven't even had a commerical yet. Make it 5-15 as they hit a three. Wow. Suton travels. UNC has hit 6 of 7 shots and all 5 starters have scored. 7-17 with 15:24 left in the first half. Looks like a blowout.
9:34 Opening Night for the Tigers. Let's check in with them, shall we? You want to start your best pitcher in the opener, right? The Tigs tonight sent Justin Verlander to the hill. He lost 17 last year. It was 9-1 Toronto a while ago...but now it's 9-5. In the 8th at Skydome which isn't, apparently, called Skydome, anymore.
9:36 back to the game. State down 12...steal...uncontested rebound...State down 14! Oh, my Lord God. It's already over.

Friday, April 3, 2009

Friday Musical Interlude: Manny Mota Edition

“Pinch-hitting for Pedro Bourbon, Manny Mota, Mota….”

Dave von Ebers is, as you know, taking the week off and has green-lighted my request to fill the Friday Musical Interlude void created by his absence.  It is a decision I am sure he will regret.

I’m posting this early because if it’s Friday I’m playing hockey and today I have a hot date right after so I won’t be around to post until, well, who knows.  (Mrs. Kincaide is okay with this, just so you know.). I’m seeing an old friend after the skate and I’m really looking forward to it.  Lori’s a great gal and I haven’t seen her in ages.  I’ll tell you one thing, if I wasn’t old enough to be her father and if she wasn’t physically repulsed by me, well, we would have been quite an item. 

Let’s hope what happened to me Tuesday doesn’t happen to me today.  Back when I was starting out, back when I was a mere wisp of a goalie, I heard of another netminder getting his collarbone broken by a shot.  If you know what the upper body protector we goalies wear looks like, you’d be like I was when I heard that.  You couldn’t believe it could happen.  The thing’s made out of Kevlar and it covers you right up to the top of the neck.  But still, some poor, hapless goalie goes out there and gets his collarbone shattered by a slapshot.

I couldn’t figure out how.  Sort of like the time I was out for warm-up and the goalie at the other end went down in a screaming heap.  He’d taken a puck strike to the knee.  I couldn’t understand how it could have happened.  Between the goal pad itself, and the knee protector I’d had sewn on to the underside of the pad, and the knee pads that are stitched to the hem of my goalie pants, I couldn’t understand how a puck could hit you on the knee.  Then one day I’m out there and this guy Rat (that’s what everybody called him, “Rat”) fires from right out in front and I turn my right skate so it’s parallel to the goal line and kick out my leg in desperation and, viola, the puck hits me and stays out.  A kick save and a beauty.  A game-saver, in fact.  But at that point I didn’t care about the game anymore because I was a screaming heap in front of my net.  When I turned my foot I exposed the inside of my leg and the puck hit me square on the inside of my knee.  Right there where there’s no muscle or fat to absorb the blow.  It was like having somebody hit you on the knee with a ball-peen hammer.  It hurt for about six months.

So I’m out there Tuesday and I go down to block a shot but the thing rises on me a little more than I’d expected (ideally you’d like to take it right in the sternum and then catch it on the carom off your chest with your trapper) so I jerk my left shoulder up to make the save.  Which I did.  And I was really proud of that for about a nanosecond until the pain hit.  Apparently when my shoulder went up, my chest protector stayed down and my collarbone was left unprotected and son-of-a-b---- it hurt.  I went down in a screaming heap.  We actually had to stop the game for a couple of minutes, which almost never happens.  I’m pretty sure I sounded like the guy Joe Pesci killed with that ink pen in Goodfellas.  All I can think is that the puck was on edge or it clipped the neck protector which is tied to my mask (that piece of equipment was invented after Buffalo’s Clint Malarchuk had his jugular sliced open by a skate, thanks Clint!) and deflected straight down.  No matter.  I thought I might have to go and get it x-rayed yesterday but it’s better today.

I’ve been playing about 18 years now and it was the first time it’s ever happened, so we should be okay.  The shooter apologized to me and I told him there was no reason for him so to do.  After all, I was trying to get hit by the puck.  It’s the point of the position I play.

Now, finally, today’s musical selection.  Dave always has a story about what the song means to him and stuff like that there.  Like a couple of weeks ago when he went with “Growing Up” by Bruce Springsteen which I thought was an amazing coincidence since it was pretty much my favorite song all through college and one of my best friends can vouch for that because I must have made him play it for me on his stereo four or five hundred times when I was A). Hammered, B). “Reflective”, or C). All of the Above. But not today.  I picked today’s song just because I happen to like the way it sounds.  However, having seen the music video for the first time while preparing today’s FMI, (I’d only heard the song heretofore) I’m (shhhh….) pretty sure it’s about LESBIANS.  Really!  I think it is.  People LOVE lesbians.  And as a result of the ruling by the Iowa Supreme Court today declaring homosexual marriage legal, we have a nifty tie-in, after all.  The court ruling, issued today without dissent, reads in part:

In short, for purposes of Iowa’s marriage laws, which are designed to bring a sense of order to the legal relationships of committed couples and their families in myriad ways, plaintiffs are similarly situated in every important respect, but for their sexual orientation. As indicated above, this distinction cannot defeat the application of equal protection analysis through the application of the similarly situated concept because, under this circular approach, all distinctions would evade equal protection review. Therefore, with respect to the government’s purpose of “providing an institutional basis for defining the fundamental relational rights and responsibilities of persons,” same–sex couples are similarly situated to opposite–sex couples.

So, on to the tunes. The girls, from Russia I believe, call themselves T.a.t.U. 

I hope you enjoy it and keep a good thought for Dave who I am sure will be back with the FMI next week.  Heck, once he catches wind of this he may create the “Monday Musical Interlude”!