Wednesday, April 16, 2014

Whack This Mole

Olsen on Boswell: "He could talk a dog off a meat truck, that guy."

I have to admit that's quite excellent. Fire Saint Benny anyway.

In other news, why the fucking fuck haven't I read yet that Adam Oates is fired? I mean, seriously, why didn't I read this two days ago? What the fucking fuck, Leonsis? I mean, based on what amounts to gossip*, I've mutated to the point where I won't mind if I read that you fired George McPhee, but I'm counting, Teddy Internet, and the number of days between last Sunday and the day you fire Adam Fucking Oates is no less than one half the number of days between the next time your team is playing hockey and the time I give you a fucking dime, you lying sack of dissembling horseshit.

*It is said that the Caps are on many players' "Please Massa don't trade me there" lists based on GMGM's allegedly draconian policies toward players and their agents. I have no idea whether it's really true, but based on some stuff I read and Leonis' recent publicizing of the Caps' policy on player-agent contacts after games, the story has the sweet stench of a relationship with reality. Given that GMGM has spent years walking a fine line because those years embodied his wandering horseshit on the player acquisition front (this year was the potentially saving exception, imhoe), he is no longer endearing. But Oates first, last, and always, though it pains me to say that of a guy who brought RPI a national title, even though he has no personality and no passion, and very clearly dyes his hair.**

**You may or may not recall, because you were or were not in the room***, that the first words out of my mouth after the horn for the first intermission of Adam Oates' tenure were, "Fire Oates."

***Or on the phone.

UPDATE: United news, while I'm here today (courtesy of Goff):

-Chris Pontius and the Hamstring of Doomitosis:
In his absence, United (2-2-1) has utilized Nick DeLeonDavy ArnaudLewis Neal and Chris Rolfe on the flanks and relied on secondary forward Fabian Espindola to influence the attack. 
Fucking shoot me. Pontius, on whom the club has staked the future for I've lost count of how many fucking seasons now, is going to be playing in a fucking wheelchair soon.

-Bill Hamid's big toe, Chris Korb's knee injury (who the fuck cares, other than Korb and his girlfriend?), Luis Silva's giant Latin tonker (or maybe his ankle).

-Fucking shoot me some more:
With a victory Saturday, United would equal last season’s win total. Last year the club needed 22 games to achieve that — and then didn’t win again. Success in Columbus, though, does not come often: four consecutive defeats. A victory, combined with other results around the league, could also thrust United into a first-place tie in the Eastern Conference.
For 10 minutes. Fucking shoot me, again and again and again. People ask me why I gave up my season tickets. Check the last four bolded names in the Pontius blockquote. There's your fucking answer. Goddam team full of number twelves (which was once a badge of honor, but no more--in fact, the last honorable true Twelve went off to coach the fucking enemy). Am I fucking shot yet?


Elric7 said...

Ted is an idiot.
Oates will be back next season.
Expect to see Beagle centering Volpatti and Ovechkin.
Somehow, McPhee will manage to steal Pavel Datsyuk from the Red Wings, but Oates will skate him 9 minutes a night on the 4th line, because he "doesn't fit" with Ovechkin.
Backstrom will publicly request a trade.
Kolzig will insist that Holtby play behind the goal line - literally ducking under the net.
After a disastrous start, McPhee will fire Oates in mid-November and replace him with Calle Johansson.

Your nightmare has yet to begin.

Landru said...

I'd love to disagree with any word of that, but that would be really, really dishonest of me.

Jim H. said...


Sasha said...

*** indeed

Every day I awaken and rush to the sports news, longing for that great flow of joy that would come with the release of the Oates. And every day I am disappointed.

I cannot allow myself to entertain the notion that Mr. Oates will return next season.

But on the very very off chance that he does, I dictate that everybody in the Verizon/MCI/SomeotherMonebyGrubbingThing Center sing
Mairzy doats and dozy doats and liddle lamzy divey
A kiddley divey too, wooden shoe? " until even Ted can't stand it.

I know he isn't a hockey fan, but Ted should be willing to spend a few bucks just to keep butts in the seats. This waiting is execreble.