Why Second Place Matters

by Ryan



This ball probably went about 502 feet. Or maybe somewhere in the high 470s. Whatever, did you see Josh Hamilton freaking hit last night?

Wait, wait, let's backtrack a bit.



Ah yes, this is the big news story we all should be talking about. Brett Favre blahblahblahblahblah "I'm a premature quitter" blah blah blah.

You know what? Screw you Brett Favre. Last night we found more important things to think about.




Josh Hamilton absolutely stole the show last night, and I for one couldn't be happier. I normally don't find much to get excited about during the Derby, but to see a kid like him just rake like that was outstanding. Probably the coolest thing I've seen in Yankee Stadium since Mark Bellhorn's home run in Game Seven of the 2004 ALCS.

The story of his past will be told over and over again, but seeing someone live "The Dream" in front of millions of people was a refreshing twist on something that had become so trivial. The Home Run Derby didn't have the most star studded of lineups, nor did it have a Yankee to be a crowd favorite. However, it only took two home runs for Hamilton to become the star of the show, and before it was over everyone was chanting his name.




The Derby is pointless. It's simply another chance to put a trophy on your mantle, and while I give Justin Morneau all the credit in the world for the win, the story of Hamilton's performance has to be remembered in the long run. We're not here to talk revisionist history and declare Hamilton the winner, but he gave us something more than the Twin ever will last night.

In this era of instant history people are constantly searching for special moments. The Home Run Derby certainly lived up to the hype, which is surprising at best. Hamilton's performance may satisfy that desire for greatness many have, but for me its significance lies in its value when compared to the other "stories" the sports world follows.

How special is it to see a guy putting his life back together before your eyes when put up against an over the hill quarterback refusing to fade into the background? Favre going on television whining about playing time and feeling wanted is just absurd when you think about how privileged Captain Wrangler is compared to Hamilton.

Where Favre is clinging to a world he knows so well, Josh Hamilton is just trying to survive his own demons. Brett talks of an itch to play football, unable to be a normal person, a "former quarterback". Hamilton knows that same itch, except giving in for him would be committing career suicide a second time. For Hamilton the tag "former" will always apply, along with it "recovering", "addict", or "alcohol."

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Baseball and football are mere games. However, we cherish their play and those that participate, claiming them heroes for something they are paid to do. The accolades we rain down on these athletes is hyperbolic, and Favre is one of the biggest benefactors of this verbal praise. Hamilton's show last night will only add to the compliments he receives, but it seems so much more appropriate at the moment.

Listen, I'm not here to give you a moral lesson or anything, so let's just say that last night was pretty freaking cool, no matter who ended up winning.



Watching Josh Hamilton swing for the Utz sign over the bleachers reminded us what sports is all about. Sports are supposed to be fun, and watching a meaningless contest on an off day was just plain fun.



Watching Favre pout "On the Record" reminds you that the "other" side of sports sucks sometimes, and only makes you look like a whiny bitch.

Finally!

Red Wing for life, that's for sure.

And does anyone know why he was holding up "2" in the team photo instead of the obligatory "1?" Because it's his second Cup? Selfish jerk.

Or because he won all of two games this playoff? Team player.

Anyways, I'm willing to bet this one sure as hell wasn't as sweet as that one in 2002.

I sincerely hope Dom has a safe flight home to the Czech Republic where he will then promptly assault some guy in a roller hockey game.

Am I still bitter? Eh maybe just a little. Going to be a fun offseason...


Update:


Hasek clearly confirms his "douchebag athlete" tag with a hat well outside of the allowable area...

Let the Tags Say It For Me

Why I Love the Postseason

Because things like this are suddenly completely heterosexual.

In other news, Sean Avery is still a massive douchebag. (Now with evidence!)

If This Doesn't Make You Smile...

Sean Avery just wants love.



I bet he celebrates like that after he pays, too. Or maybe push ups.

Happy Birthday, Willis McGahee!

by Ryan

Thanks for all you've done for us! The big two-six, huh? Man, you've almost scored as many touchdowns as your age!

Those six touchdowns last year really meant something to us, buddy. So we all chipped in and got you something to celebrate with after the game.



So gather up the gaggle of children, load them up into the McGahee family minivan, and get ready to "Eat Good in the Neighborhood!" There's a shiny new $24 on that card, one for every magical touchdown you gave us. I'm sure around these parts that can get you pretty far!

Oh don't worry, Willis, it shouldn't bee to hard to find find a store in the city. I mean, what else is there?

Hey, we were gonna get you the new Madden, but I figured you were sick of it after all those boring nights in the city. I hope you can keep your focus today, we wouldn't want you getting hurt or anything.

So yeah, Happy Birthday.



Assclown.

Dear Tiki Barber,

by Ryan

Hey, buddy! Long time no see. Actually, I see you everywhere these days, and it makes me want to blind myself with an awl.

Here's the deal, Tiki: you were slightly amusing on Fox News. Yeah, I think my Mom tuned in a few times, whatever.

Then you got a bit shady and announced you were retiring in the middle of a playoff race. While the Niedermayer method is not recommended, you didn't play it much better.

And now that you are actually retired you just can't seem to keep your mouth shut about anything. This new found release from allegiances has you telling anyone that will listen what you think about the Giants and their general suckitute.

Guess what Tiki? If you are going to collectively throw the organization, players, and staff under the bus, we'd appreciate it if you stopped using the possessive when you talk about them. You were just so giddy when you cut ties with the G-men, why linger around with all this "we" and "us" and "our" garbage.

Sure, it doesn't help when Madden refers to the Giants as "yours," but we all know he's losing it. The keys have been taken away from him in his video game, and he did the freaking Heisman Pose a few weeks back and no one batted an eye. Don't even get me started on his "colorful" artwork.

No one wants to hear you talk like this, friend. Even Steve Tasker thinks you are being a homer. So cut the crap and do what you do best: say nothing meaningful in a suit. You are not special. You just happen to have a nice wardrobe and adorable smile. Heck, Keyshawn Johnson looked like Neapolitan ice cream this morning and still got a paycheck for it.

So shut up, publish your stupid book no one will read, and get out of my face. Unless you are suiting up next week behind that fat kid who backs up Eli, move on. You are retired. Get over yourself.

Oh, and tell Keith Olbermann that he sucks at life, and if he continues to make bland jokes all season I'm flying to New York City to beat him with his red phone. He's killing me, and making Collinsworth and Costas turn themselves into low rent stand-up artists.

I can't believe I watched your lame schtick while Kevin Everett is lying in a hospital bed clinging to what's left of his career. It only goes to show how pathetic and vapid "Football Night in America" is in light of real life. Disgusting.

To think you retired to save your best years for later in life, Tiki. Good for you. While you sit there and create a storm of meaningless bullshit, guys like Kevin Everett risk everything just to play the game they love. Thank God you had the decency to give your self promotion a backseat in light of today's events.

What an assclown.

The Legend of Howie Clark

By Chris

A few years ago my brother's baseball team went out to a Bisons game here in Buffalo and for the second game of the doubleheader decided to go sit out in the picnic area in right field. Herron's Landing is a prime location for heckling and Syracuse Sky Chiefs right fielder Howie Clark got it good.

Picture fifteen twelve year olds chanting "HOOOOOOOWWWWWIIIEEEEEE!!!" between every pitch and everytime you run around to track down a fly ball. They started in about the sixth and by the time the eighth inning rolled around, they had him on the ropes.

At one point, he turned around and adjusted his cup in front of all the kids, which instead of intimidating them just promoted more cat calls. Then Howie was really ticked. A ground rule double went over his head and soon after he flipped the bird to a bunch of pre-teens. A really classy move.

So it was much to my delight when I learned that it was none other than Howie who was tricked into dropping that flyball last night in his first game with the Jays this year. That's what you get for flipping off twleve year olds in the minor leagues, Howie. Best of luck to you in all your future endeavors...in whichever local Wendy's that may be.